


KnockOut

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anal Fingering, Bad First Impressions, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Frottage, Getting Together, Getting together speedrun, HQ Rarepair Bang 2020, Heavy Petting, Hinata with piercings and tattoos, Kissing, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mob boss Shimizu, Multiple Sex Positions, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Piercer Suna, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Strangers to Lovers, Tattooist Kita, Tattooist Osamu, Tea Shop clerk Shouyou, Tea shop AU, he's small but he can jump, sexploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: The tea is very present in this neighbourhood, and the tattoos soon too.This is how the afternoon Hinata Shouyou, clerk at the 'Birds of a Feather' tea shop, should have gone: clean the floors before closing, take an inventory check, and wait for Kenma to bring dinner.This is how it's going so far: watch a tattoo'd delinquent enter the aromatic store, forget all manners, and attack the seemingly unwelcome visitor with a baseball bat.Miya Osamu, who just moved himself into town and opened a store, can't help but fall for him.Bonus: protective bisexuals, yakuza is present for a bit, but i have a very cool girl boss.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 33
Kudos: 217
Collections: HQ Rarepair Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea for aaageees and decided to join the rp big bang with it~ I struggled so much for this fic until I didn't uvu also omg finally we have animated and voiced Osamu...we had him for a minute TT

"This is the best tea I have ever had," Osamu says after the first sip. It comes matter-of-factly, as he feels the sensation of a warm hug run down his throat and into his chest. Cradling the mug in his hand, he stares down the yellow hues. Tea always felt like a hug, but this one was more than special. He looks up to his brother, about to ask where he got it. Reading minds every now and then, Atsumu grins wide, elbows on his knees as he leans forward, his own cup in his hands.

"Isn't it just the best!? My usual supplier moved across town so I looked online where I could find a new tea shop. The closest one isn't that far. They were pouring this in the store to try out!"

"...I need it." Osamu decides, handing his phone to his twin. He knew if he asked that maybe Atsumu would let him keep the tea here, though he had just gotten it for himself. And anyway, Osamu didn't have a good tea supply in his store as of now. Just the standard choices of green tea, earl grey, and some kind of tasteless stuff he only gave to irritating people. "Give me the address."

“It’s super close to you, too. I am jealous. Too bad they don’t do online delivery,” Atsumu says, typing the address.

Work was slow at the moment, and somehow Atsumu always knew the times he could come in for tea, or to annoy Osamu. After being a tattoo apprentice for 5 years, the 23-year-old Osamu never regretted the day he opened his own tattoo parlour. He moved out of Atsumu's apartment to rent his own, only a few blocks away from his workplace. Drinking the amazing tea while Atsumu rattles on about the tea store, he feels more and more at ease. Osamu loves both the spaces where he works and lives, becoming accustomed to them both after a month.

Every day anew, he feels more able to settle in, to be accepted by this side of the neighbourhood. Atsumu had warned him of seedier parts in this town, but Osamu and his tattoos fit right in. The tea shop appears to be a bit further down the street, where the nicer businesses begin to appear. The ‘other side’ of town, where houses are kept nicer and green plants are put outside.

"You've got many customers, huh," Atsumu notes, looking over the table where Osamu has some designs for clients ready. His shop was on the edge between the bad neighbourhood and the good one, so he didn't have to worry about clientele. Atsumu, thinking himself the older brother, had first worried about letting Osamu open a shop here, and then also living a few blocks away. He hadn't been all that happy that Osamu left. They’d had a fight, with Osamu stating that Atsumu didn't need the money sharing rent would save if he's being picked for the national team. And that it was time they went separate ways. Osamu hadn't found this place yet at the time, and had moved in with an old acquaintance of the brothers, Gin.

Three days and a joint tattoo session with one of Osamu's customers later, the twins each carry a tattoo volleyball on the inside of their knees; Osamu on his right knee, Atsumu on his left. Atsumu could cover his up with a knee pad during training, and would wear sports tape during summer to cover it up. Fight and make up was the only way the Miya twins knew how to be good brothers to each other, even with major fights. Atsumu's concern now was touching, his eyes scanning the page of one particular artwork Osamu really liked, and hoped his customer would love.

"It's going alright for the first 30 days, I guess. I don't expect anything too big in the first year though," Osamu muses, taking another piece of paper from the pile of drawings. "By the way, what do you think of this? I want to add it on my shoulder blade."

Atsumu leans forward, inspecting the flowery design. Between the colourful petals hide knives and evil smiling foxes. He likes it immediately, the glow in his eyes telling Osamu as much. Osamu always wanted tattoos, ever since he was 14. Atsumu had been apprehensive at first, but still supported his drawings and designs. The volleyball wasn't the first tattoo Atsumu allowed on his body, but it was only the second one. Nonetheless, he's supportive of Osamu getting new ones, if the designs are pretty,

"That looks great! Have you already found a colleague here or someone to take on?" Atsumu sips his tea, delighted at the taste. Osamu has to drink, too, to get that warm, comfortable feeling once more.

"Nah, I'm going to work solo for a while. Shop's too small to host more than one artist, anyway." Osamu likes the tiny space, which was entirely his own. He's saved up money for so long to fulfill his dream of becoming a freelance tattoo artist. He and Atsumu had scoured forever to find something befitting his needs, after Atsumu knew Osamu wouldn't move back home or live with his twin. Atsumu had been adamant about it even after their fight and tattoos. He’d said time and time again it was okay if Osamu lived with him in the apartment, but Osamu wanted to be independent. His puddings would also be safer here. A total upgrade.

Setting the design he made for himself aside, Osamu makes a mental note to contact an old friend to get the tattoo done in a few months. Kita would soon be around in this area for work.

They drink their teas, talking about whatever comes to mind. Osamu regards his twin, whose skin is so pure-looking. He'd waited patiently the first couple of years, for Atsumu to come around and to have the perfect design in mind to add to his body. The twin foxes in light yellow and platinum grey rested cheek to cheek, paw to paw, on Atsumu's rib cage. It was a simple design, with light black strokes, the type Osamu liked doing in Japanese calligraphy classes as well. The colours were matte, and the details of the foxes were incredibly simple.

It warmed Osamu's heart that it was Atsumu’s first and, for the longest time, only choice of ink. But the rest of his twin's body was mostly free. A canvas so untouched that Osamu giggles at it now. He runs his own inked fingers through his freshly shaved undercut, and leans back into his chair as Atsumu peruses the other drawings for possible clients.

This week would be good.

*

*

The bell rings as a customer leaves. Shouyou huffs in pride, having sold more different teas today than he had the day before. Sugawara would be proud when he returns from his small vacation. Taking up the broom, Shouyou cleans the space behind the counter, where a few leaves and wrapping paper cuts lie. Humming to himself, he checks the clock. He hasn't looked at it for the past hours, with how busy it had been. Now business hours are coming to a close, and Shouyou cleans as much as he can while Kenma is buying them dinner.

Even when the sign of the 'Birds of a Feather' tea shop turns to 'Closed', Shouyou and Kenma will still have to do inventory and check which teas Akaashi has to re-order for them.

Looking forward to Kenma's surprise food choice, Shouyou looks up when the bell rings again. He turns, all smiles, the 'welcome!' ready on his lips, when his body freezes. Through the door came more than just fresh air and a customer. In front of him stands a fully tattooed punk, looking like trouble. Setting the broom aside, Shouyou's hand slowly goes to the baseball bat hidden below the counter. Tanaka and Yamamoto had shown them all how to swing a baseball bat. They had argued that, as the trio ended opening the shop close to a bad neighbourhood, they should know how to defend themselves. Tanaka and Yamamoto knew best; they lived in the bad side of town, after all.

Shouyou doesn't waste breath. Jumping on top of the counter to give himself momentum and strength, Shouyou swings the bat up, and charges forward in a wide jump. The punk's eyes widen in surprise but not in panic. He steps back immediately, and Shouyou's swing misses his nose. He stops it before breaking anything that doesn't need breaking.

"We don't need your 'protection', asshole! Leave, and don't even think about bringing your buddies here!" Shouyou knows he shouldn't make threats if this guy really is a criminal, and the shop could be left in shambles if the punk decides to actually bring more people. Unable to keep the anger in him silent or reasonable, Shouyou charges once more. This time he bumps the end of the bat against the asshole's chin, but his victory of a hit is short-lived.

The next thing he knows, his wrists are held together, and the baseball bat clunks to the floor. A foot hooks behind his ankle, making him fall. The air in his lungs is knocked out as his back hits the floor. The punk descends on him, locating Shouyou's wrists once more, and spreads the arms wide and immobile. He's a lot taller and heavier than Shouyou, who says 'Oomph' out loud when the stranger sits on his lap.

He can't struggle, but he still tries.

"Hey now, not so feisty. I just came looking for tea."

Shouyou can't kick his legs up as the punk sits heavy on his hips, and he gives up trying to roll the other guy off him. The baseball bat lies useless and too far away on the ground. Greater worries strike down on Shouyou's consciousness, as he cannot even repeat the words previously said to him.

"You what...?"

"Tea. I am pretty sure I walked into a tea store and not the next Tekken live action movie." The person above him keeps his calm, unlike Shouyou who was all about attack first and ask questions later. Breathing heavy through his nose, Shouyou can't keep the disbelief from his face. He blinks, and the stranger rolls his eyes, then turns his chin to both the captured hands. "Look, I'm going to stand up slowly, alright. No groin attacks, please."

When he does, Shouyou scrambles backwards and takes up his bat at once, not trusting this seedy fellow with his arms and collarbone full of ink. He might have hidden more under his hoodie, which were rolled up to his elbows. Shouyou is a bit mesmerized with the fingers, even though they bore ink.

"Calm down, you're misunderstanding... I'm not yakuza. Here, look at my card." That same inked hand Shouyou observes goes down his pants' pocket, and Shouyou winds up his bat in case it’s a diversion, or if the hand returns with a switchblade. The fingers return with a card, however. Cautious, Shouyou takes a step forward, eyes on the punk, one hand on the bat. He takes the card and gives it a quick glance.

**Miya Osamu  
_tattoo artist | freelance_**

Shouyou scans the contact details next to a singular fox on the right side of the card. Then he blinks when he recognizes the street. It's that newly opened tattoo shop, right at the corner of where the unmarked division between the town is. Shouyou and Kenma have seen it from afar; Sugawara had made an appointment for Kenma’s hair to be re-bleached, and Shouyou had been tasked to bring Kenma to the hair salon. Kenma noted the new building, formerly boarded up and graffitied all over. He also said he wanted to visit one day. Kenma has talked about tattoos as long as Shouyou knew him, but he also kept going in circles to what he wanted.

"So you're..." he starts, mind blank. He lowers the baseball bat at last, and with it his final defense.

"I'm here for tea, yeah. My brother had this really nice blend. It's called 'Lovely Lemon', I think?"

Backing towards his counter, Shouyou puts the baseball bat back into its place. His mind is all haywire. Sugawara would have been in a lot of trouble if Shouyou had successfully attacked an unassuming customer. Nevermind what could have happened to Shouyou! This guy may still press charges, or want something for free after all the trouble. Wary still, Shouyou turns and locates the blend. He opens the top, moving it towards this Miya character to take a sniff.

"Oh yeah, that's it. My brother brought the tea over, you see. So I came here on my late afternoon break to buy some. Didn't know you guys were battle ready." He smiles sweetly, rubbing his neck. Shouyou's body goes through a whiplash from action and surprise to something completely else— _’oh no’_ is his second thought, right after the initial _’he’s pretty…’_ —

Setting the canister down with trembling hands, Shouyou realizes it's time for an apology.

"Sorry about that. My supervisor and some of our friends... they warned me about the punks that are on the other side of the street. So we have a bat and everything," Shouyou apologizes, feeling stupid. "Sooo, do you want 100 gram pre-packed or do you have a container with you..?"

As the last words leave Shouyou lips, he notices there's nothing on the man called Miya. He didn't even have a backpack with him. Pulling out a purse from his back pocket, Miya shakes his head. He has platinum grey hair—an ashy, almost natural hue to it. There was an undercut too, with black, buzzed short hair giving off a nice contrast. Shouyou doesn't want to dwell on just how 'nice' it is, shoving that thought back where it came from in his mind. It’s undeniable how attractive this guy is. _Uh oh... Oh wait he's speaking._

"No, I didn't think about that. You sell them, right? I also need a tea egg. I just opened the parlour, so I didn't have time to get anything apart from teabags and a couple of mugs. Customers are complaining about no sugar, too..." Miya rolls his eyes, but it’s nothing to Shouyou's reaction.

"Sugar is the worst!" Shouyou says immediately, remembering in shame his younger years, when he absolutely needed sugar in everything. The senior Ukai taught them all how to appreciate proper tea when they were apprentices in his tea shop. Brewing good teas, tasting their nature and notes. Once he’d learned that, sugar was forbidden.

At last, Shouyou's mind and body return to his selling instincts. He guides Miya to where their assortment of containers and tea eggs are. He leaves Miya a bit of space to make a selection, and then they return to the counter together. Shouyou fills the container with the tea, until it's exactly 100 grams. He cannot bring himself to ring up the price though, biting his lip. He looks at Miya, who waits with patience.

"Okay so... you're a first time customer and uh, I nearly hit you with a baseball bat." Shouyou ducks to get a paper bag from beneath the counter, then decides that it's indeed worth his pay to make it up to this guy. "So this is on me!"

Incredulously, Miya declines. "I can't accept that. Besides, you didn't leave a scratch. You're too short to even come close, if you hadn't jumped up like that." Miya puts down a couple 1000 yen bills, but Shouyou won't have it. He lets the short comment slide for just a minute, as he plays a bizarre reverse tug of war with this tattooed crazy person.

"No, I said it's on me!" Shouyou shoves the bag and the money over to Miya, whose hands cover his as he tries to decline it still. They're warm hands, with soft palms. Bigger than Shouyou's. Tattoos all over. They're also stronger now that Miya has the literal upper-hand. He shoves the bag and all back, moving the money with it over the counter. Then he takes the bag and steps away from Shouyou.

"I can pay for it, and I really don't mind," he smiles, bag in hand as he turns to the door. Shouyou blinks, having gathered all the bills and making a quick count.

"But, but change! Hey, I wasn't finished," Shouyou shouts, unable to ring up anything after Miya left. And Shouyou's sure he's given one 1000 yen bill too many, to begin with. Sweating at the difference this will create, and wondering if he can find the exact objects again, Shouyou's eyes fall on a forgotten business card. It's the one Miya showed him before, to stand for his credibility. Shouyou had left it unceremoniously on the counter after receiving it, completely forgetting all his manners. On it are his name and address.

Shouyou writes a quick note for Kenma, turns off most of the back lights, and closes up shop to follow this tattoo artist to his own turf.

*

*

"Why exactly do you have the baseball bat with you?" Osamu asks, looking at the small tea clerk. He'd never asked his name in all the commotion.

"It's a dangerous neighbourhood here! And you didn't take your change back... besides, I said it's on me. So here!" The small man slams Osamu's money on the table, then makes to leave. Osamu's faster. Rolling his eyes, he can easily reach the boy before he's able to leave out of the door like some kind of orange whirlwind. As the door opens inward, Osamu slams his hand to force it closed, and the handle jerks out of the man’s grip.

"Hey, hold it. Is my money not good enough for you?" He grabs the clerk—who's a good head shorter than him—by his arm. Somehow Osamu is not surprised to feel the muscle and strength beneath his fingers and thumb. This was after all the same guy who thought that a baseball bat to the face is an appropriate and civil way to greet someone new. Still, it hits Osamu as a surprise what touching the muscle is doing to him. Not an unpleasant sensation, his body argues.

"It's not about that, you can totally pay us next time you visit and get tea," the boy struggles under his grip, and Osamu is sure they're close in age. Not wanting trouble, Osamu’s hands let go for a moment. The boy stares up but doesn’t run away. He has so much guts.

"Hold on a second!" Osamu says, thinking how he could easily push this guy against the door. His mind conjures up scenarios from shoujo-ai and erotic manga with older men that he’s read with the same type of hold. "Just... a moment. I told you my name. What's yours?"

"Hinata Shouyou," he says, and Osamu takes a breather.

"Alright, Hinata. How about this. I pay for the tea egg and the container I bought. The tea... alright you can give me this tea. But only this once!"

"Sure, on what conditions?"

"Those... those were my conditions. What, you wanna fight about it? You know you don't stand a chance, with or without the bat," Osamu grins, knowing he's cut off Hinata's escape route, and that he's stronger. It's of course then that he realizes the light in Hinata's eyes could be easily described as fire. He's angered the wrong person. Hinata walks out of the door, and Osamu doesn’t stop him. Worry and curiosity mingle as follows him outside, guessing he may have to apologize.

But then, a little up ahead, Hinata drops the baseball bat to the ground. Before Osamu can wonder what this is about, Hinata takes quick running steps forward, then jumps so high that Osamu’s neck cranes upwards. Once more, he’s pulled up into a jump Osamu has seen wing spikers do, and it comes straight down— for him.

Arms react before he can even think, Osamu spreads his arms and catches Hinata, who is flying through the air. In a split second, Hinata's arms go around Osamu's neck, and the shorter legs bump into Osamu’s lower back. He releases a breath on Osamu's lips, who finds himself wrapped up in more than just Hinata's limbs. It's the eyes that overtake him. The colour alone has Osamu captivated, but they're also too intense for him to look away.

"Uhm... uhm!" Hinata says, struggling to get off. Osamu's hands are respectfully below Hinata's thighs and not on his ass. It's a good thing that Osamu's shop is officially still on his evening break, that no one is around to see this weird display. Osamu’s brain decides right this second that he wouldn't mind spending a couple of hours with Hinata, in his presence or in his embrace...

As quick as Hinata got on him, however, he jumps off.

"I should really get back now! Don't worry about the money, Miya-kun," Hinata says, looking at Osamu's store, where he left the bills. Osamu can’t protest as Hinata is already running off. Not wanting to go on a goose chase, Osamu watches him go.

*

*

The week goes by in a blink of an eye. On Saturday, the time goes by so fast that Shouyou doesn't even look at the clock. Kenma is busy with pre-packing teas behind him, their space filling up with all kinds of nice smells. Customers ask Shouyou for the specifics, with Kenma reaching around and giving them the leaves to fact check. In the shop, the customers are running around to find Sugawara; Kenma disappoints them in his cool and calm voice saying he won’t be here for a couple of days. Proving to be just as knowledgeable if not as flirtatious, Kenma gives them all tips and recommendations. It is up to Shouyou to make sure they also taste the newest teas or some of the shop's favourites.

Once the last group is satisfied and leaves with paper bags, Kenma takes his mug from behind the second counter. Talking makes you thirsty, which has Shouyou eyeing his own water-bottle filled iced tea. He's about to reach for it, when Kenma nudges his shoulder.

"Say, that odd-looking fellow out there... He's been pacing back and forth every now and then, looking in. Know him?"

Shouyou looks to the glass window, where Sugawara and Sawamura have prettied up the place with plants from Sawamura's flower shop. It takes Shouyou a moment to distinguish the 'odd-looking fellow' from other passersby, but there's no doubt about it who Kenma means when Shouyou's eyes fall on the abundance of tattoos. Shouyou stops himself from biting his bottom-lip, a habit he has taken up after thinking of Miya for the past couple of days, including last night. It didn't help that the card Miya left had an Instagram account too. Shouyou has gotten his fill of looking at Miya's artwork: both the type he creates for his customers on paper, as well as work done on bodies, including his own.

"Ah I th-think that could be a customer... should I invite them in?"

"You think... Hmm, sure, Shouyou," Kenma says, sipping his tea, and leaving Shouyou to tend to his own. He looks at his phone, typical Kenma. Shouyou exits the tea shop, facing Miya.

Without a baseball bat, this time.

He sees right away that Miya is fidgeting. For someone who seems badass and has a ton of artwork on his body, this guy comes across as shy all of a sudden. Shouyou feels that in his bones, being extremely shy himself depending on the situation. He manages, without tripping over his words, to invite Miya in.

"My colleague has brewed some of our finest selection. Wouldn't you like to widen yours, too?" Shouyou asks, knowing that he sounds completely and utterly as if he wants to sell. Miya goes between nodding and shaking his head. His eyes roam over Shouyou’s apron. Then Miya puts his hands in his pockets and looks somewhere way, way above Shouyou's head.

"You liked my picture."

"I did a what now?" Shouyou rumbles, fear spreading from his chest to every fiber of his body.

"The one where I added a siren to the sea and coastal line, the tattoo on my lower back? You liked that picture," Miya says, an odd tone in his voice. Shouyou remembers that siren; it had an eerie, beautiful look to it, as it sat on top of a rock in the middle of a storming sea. The colours were muted, more skin-toned, while the blues and greens surrounding the siren were vibrant. There had been a couple of pictures where Shouyou was just entranced, not just from the art, but also because of Miya's fit body. It was no coincidence that he had overpowered Shouyou when he'd been attacked with a baseball bat.

Now, Shouyou frantically thinks back of how he scrolled Miya's feed, down to the very first picture of himself and someone who looked exactly like him. His thumb had taken the utmost care not to tap too often. And surely he'd have seen the heart pop on his screen?

Apparently he didn't. And now he was in deep shit.

"I guessed it was an accident but... you liked a couple of pictures. I was... very flattered and wondered if maybe you'd like to. I don't know. Have tea at my parlour? I realized your closing time is 15 minutes before my break ends so..." Miya stops fidgeting, to rub his neck and look nervously around to an even higher point.

"Hmmmmmmmm? What's that I hear? Is someone asking out our good little Hinata?" Sugawara's voice comes from the entrance, and Shouyou's head returns from the dead. Kenma holds up his phone, his call to Sugawara on speaker. Kenma’s eyes have a distinct sharpness to them when he looks up at Miya. Shouyou is glad Sugawara isn’t here; from that voice alone, he can imagine the wide grin, extending in a way that would spell out 'I'm dangerous' to anyone who truly knows him. Shouyou takes an instinctive step forward, to somewhat shield Miya from both Kenma and the faraway Sugawara.

"For tea, yes. Are you his older brother who needs to give him permission to cross the street or what?" Miya says, his voice loud enough to carry over Shouyou's head and towards the speaker. Shouyou feels his heart sink to his shoes. Before the situation escalates to worse conditions, Shouyou calculates how quickly and unassuming he can push Kenma back inside. It’s just then that a tiny voice behind Miya is asking if the store is still open—Miya budges a bit to let a boy and a girl in, and Kenma rolls his eyes, disconnecting the call.

“Ah yes, the Fujioka order…” Kenma says, looking at Shouyou. Turning towards the counter, Kenma’s angelic monotone voice calls out to him.

"Shouyou...you are on gift-wrap duty while Suga-san is away. Please," Kenma says, straightening title cards of the teas where customers have knocked them aside unknowingly. Shouyou breathes a sigh of relief, but he can’t shake the image of Sugawara's grin, or how he might give Miya a disapproving look.

Defeated, Shouyou's shoulders go down, and he waves at Miya, mouthing a silent 'sorry'.

Miya looks just as defeated, and walks away. Shouyou bites his lip again, then returns behind the counter.

*

*

Atsumu is in his face, and Osamu is 3 seconds away from shoving him away. His bastard brother moves too fast though, circling him from all sides. As if a different angle might reveal whatever he would like to know, but isn't asking. There's a small pout on Atsumu's lips, one he shows whenever Osamu doesn't tell him something.

Such as having a crush on a cute, little, fierce tea clerk further down the road.

"Aha!" Atsumu exclaims, once again showing a nasty habit of knowing exactly what's going on in Osamu's head space. "I knew it."

"The things you think you know but do not actually know could fill entire books, 'Tsumu. Thick ones." Osamu leans back in his chair, and Atsumu finally sits down as well. They usually had breakfast together before Atsumu's morning training, a couple of hours before Osamu would open his shop for visitors and people interested in some ink. He now wishes he hadn't made that second cup of tea. Gut-feeling told him that Atsumu was giving him weird looks this morning. The searching kind which see problems that need solving.

It was true that Osamu had a problem, but he'd rather not talk about it. If he told Atsumu about his failed and foiled attempt to ask out a cutie, he'd never hear the end of it. Especially because a part of Osamu had been a little scared of the way that guy over the phone sounded—that audible grin would haunt him. No matter how tough Osamu had acted, his trusty gut-feeling told him that person, Sugawara, was not to be trifled with.

"No, no, I am certain of this. It's exactly like that time in junior high school when you had a crush on that exchange student!" Atsumu claps his hands together, always too good at guessing. One day, Osamu hopes he will be so wrong in front of a coach or his teammates or anybody who matters, that he will forever stop at guessing Osamu. It would be twice as good if Osamu could be there to witness that shutdown. He's sure it will never happen to him, personally. But one day Atsumu has to make a wrong assumption about someone, right?

"You're making that exact same face from back then. Wanting something you think you will not get or cannot have."

His brother being right about it all makes him just all the more annoying than he already is. Osamu sighs, then warns his twin. "We agreed to never talk about that painful time again, and I didn't have a crush. It was just... lust for his accent. And I'm past that, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, that's ancient history! I'm more interested in the here and now, and who this new person might be. So, tell me! Is it a client? Did you meet someone going to a club? Wait, did you actually go somewhere without me?" Atsumu says, his brow arching in question. Osamu sighs and shakes his head. Atumu would not let this go and just become more annoying over time. Best to spill it all and have it be over with.

Osamu starts from the beginning, trying not to look at Atsumu's widening smile. He's eating it up, as he sips his tea. Osamu ends it by saying that Hinata never came by in the evening, and Osamu didn't want to risk going over there and getting him in trouble. He’d kept looking up as he sat and drew in the front of his store in his free moments yesterday evening, hoping that Hinata would come around… but not everyone was his own boss like Osamu. The ‘breaks’ he set for himself were a routine he’s set up. As long as he wasn’t inking someone or had to draw a design, he could have tea-time with Hinata any given moment... If only there had been a moment.

Atsumu becomes pensive at once, and Osamu senses that some ridiculous stuff will come out of his mouth any second now. When the words spilling off Atsumu’s lips are actually sensible and have reasoning behind them, Osamu must confess it doesn’t sound so bad. He reaches for his dayplanner and a pen, noting Atsumu’s idea down in the lower margins of today’s schedule. No matter what comes up, Osamu always makes time for food. He could cook up a little extra.

“Pack it up nice, wrap a bow around it, and voila, he’ll be yours with ease,” Atsumu says, proud whenever Osamu agrees with him or follows his lead.

That night after closing, when it’s dinner time, Osamu cooks extra rice. He has his own vegetables and meat cut up and ready for a stew. On the side he has prepared a small tray with fillings, ready to be put into part of the rice he’s cooking. No one could say no to Osamu’s onigiri after all, Atsumu was right about that. Thinking back to how Hinata looked when he visited the tea shop earlier, Osamu makes the decision to cut up tiny sausages, and fry them too.

*

The next day during his break, Osamu stands outside his parlour, closing up one-handed. When he turns, his heart skips up to his throat. Hinata stands right there, his fingers fidgeting. He wears a mustard-coloured apron, with the logo and name of the tea-shop printed on the left chest. Underneath he wears a cream-coloured hoodie. Today the air was crisp; not cold as long if you wore long sleeves, like Osamu had chosen this morning too.

Hinata performs a small bow in greeting, and Osamu nods back in return. It’s noticeable how today Hinata isn’t armed with his friend the baseball bat. Osamu takes that as a sign of trust set within him. He isn’t trying to hide the bento he made for Hinata. One could think—and many would if they knew Osamu—that he’d made two lunches for himself.

“Uhhh, I am sorry about yesterday. It got very busy after you left,” Hinata says, and Osamu remembers seeing multiple groups of people flock to the tea shop. A few of them had looked into his shop, but Osamu paid them no mind. Most were underage anyway. No possible customers among them, yet. Even so, Osamu hadn’t been distracted by them.

“It’s fine,” Osamu says, holding up the wrapped bento he made for Hinata. “I was about to go to the park and eat lunch there. Wanna come?” Osamu wasn’t sure how breaks worked at Hinata’s place. He doesn’t have to ask this moment, though, as Hinata smiles and his head bops up and down in agreement to go with him.

Hinata pulls his money purse from a pocket. He gestures with it, about to say something stupid. Osamu cuts him short, gently waving the bento specifically meant to seduce a man through the stomach.

“Don’t worry about store-bought food. I have enough to share,” Osamu says, putting up a harder looking front. The protest is minor, and so Osamu’s head turns towards the path that would lead to the park to which he’d been only very few times. Looking back at Hinata, he points to the apron. “Do you want to leave that behind? I could keep in the store if you want?”

Looking down as if only noticing the apron just now, Hinata’s shocked. Giving the bentos to Hinata to hold, Osamu opens the door, then retrieves his lunches as Hinata quickly goes in to take off his apron and fold it neatly out of sight. Seeing Hinata take a piece of cloth off did nothing to spur Osamu’s mind. Seeing Hinata so close to the chair though, Osamu couldn’t help but think of crows flying about in the sunset sky. An image that would be great above and under Hinata’s collarbone, the crows flying to the shoulder…

Hinata comes back out and Osamu closes his parlour a second time. The shuffle of bentos and who holds them feels silly, but Osamu is glad neither of them drops it. They walk to the park. Osamu hopes he isn’t being too intimidating. Although, he wasn’t the one whose first response was a baseball bat.

On the way to the park they pass a vending machine. Looking at it, Osamu’s jaw goes slack, as he faces Hinata.

“I forgot the drinks at my parlour,” Osamu says. He watches as the weirdest expression comes over Hinata’s face, who retrieves his small coin-purse from his pants. There is no reason to look victorious. With his hands holding the bentos, there’s no other option for Osamu but to let Hinata treat him to an iced coffee. Hinata chooses a milk drink, and they continue on.

Osamu hasn’t had time to check out the park yet, but passing by it a few times, it did seem like a nice place to have a picnic. They walk up the steps near the entrance to it, and it doesn’t take long for Osamu to find a nice bench for them to sit on and spend some time together. All this time, he hasn’t felt nervous. It was just a lunch date, after all.

Hinata sits on one end of the bench, Osamu on the other side, and between them the now open bento lunches. Osamu feels a swirl of pride in his chest at how excited Hinata appears.

“That looks so good! Ah, the smell too~” Hinata’s voice rises to an excited higher pitch. He takes up one of the onigiri, holding it in his hands like a precious thing. “These look so professionally made!”

“I made them,” Osamu says, giving Hinata a set of chopsticks. His original plan had been to just drop the onigiri off at Hinata’s workplace, then drop the hint there’s more where that came from. Make him like Osamu more by using food, like Atsumu suggested. This was a million times better. Fortune really favoured the bold and daring. Smiling to himself, Osamu eats with Hinata in silence. Thank god he does try to make his bento lunches look gorgeous sometimes. Often, he wouldn’t care less how the presentation looks if it's just for him.

Hinata marvels over the octopus-looking sausages, saying his mom also made them like this sometimes. Osamu munches on happily, watching Hinata devour one onigiri after the other, appearing to love every filling. Smiling, Osamu looks away. It’s a bit silly and weird to look at someone eating and to feel so happy because they are. Still, trying to be honest with himself, Osamu can’t hate how Hinata makes him feel. It’s like pocket-sunshine, sitting right next to him on this bench.

It’s only then he realizes that the bold and daring one was Hinata, after all. He came to him. That should mean something...

*

*

They walk back slowly, filled with the good food Miya made. Shouyou can’t stand how cool he looks with his hands in his pockets, and hates it even more that the many tattoos are hidden from view under the long sleeves. Miya acknowledges Shouyou’s stare with a smile.

“Miss seeing them?” He asks, and Shouyou takes a step back, shakes his head, denies every word. It makes Miya laugh for reasons unknown, and then he pulls up his sleeves up to his elbow. Shouyou turns his head, feeling the pull to look fighting him every second. He has seen the tattoos in all their glory on Miya’s instagram page, but it was quite different when seen in daylight, in the flesh. Shouyou remembers there are foxes on the arms, a conga line dancing upwards. Blinking, Shouyou looks after all. The foxes aren’t all the same. There’s one with large ears, and another that stares back at you with a flat face.

‘Missing them’ wasn’t it. Being curious about them, wanting to know if the skin below felt different… Shouyou’s finger reaches out, his mind is in a haze as he follows all the little foxes up to Miya’s elbow, a spot left completely blank. The sleeve rolled up there stops him in his tracks, and so does Miya’s feet when he notices the closeness.

“Hmmm?” Miya says, making Shouyou’s mind jumpstart back into reality and his body fling itself away from Miya. From touching him. Shouyou’s mouth works a mile without coming forward one bit, and laughing it off sounds even worse. He points back at the elbow, drawing Miya’s eyes to it, his bent elbow eagling outwards as if there might be a bug.

“There’s nothing there.”

“Sure isn’t,” Miya says, turning to Shouyou and lifting both his elbows up for him to see. “Skin on the elbows and the feet is way too thin, same as directly around the nipples. Can’t be inked. Well, you could try with the feet, but it’s incredibly painful,” Miya grins. As if he’s daring Shouyou to get himself tattoos there. Instead, Shouyou’s hands reach up to his chest, covering himself above the fabric.

“Around the…” He freezes, blinking in confusion and dawning horror.

Miya’s grin widens, almost softly so. He steps forward. If Shouyou thought it couldn’t get worse, Miya’s next words would help disperse it.

“Yeah, usually people rather get their nipples pierced. I got those too. Did you see them on my profile?”

Shouyou’s mind reels. He’s seen people with outrageous piercings in the subways of Tokyo a few times, when he used to visit Kenma there. Facial modifications, Kenma called it. Some were neat, like a single piercing in the ear. Other’s had metal upon metal, everywhere. And some people in Shouyou’s own friendship circles had piercings in the craziest places, like the tongue. Shouyou’s mouth is dry all of a sudden. He hadn’t seen the metal placement Miya was talking about, but he could imagine. His throat swallows dry air, and he feels himself blush under Miya’s scrutiny.

“C-can’t remember…”

“A shame. I could show you, if you like,” Miya says, continuing to walk sideways at first to look at Shouyou, then normally. Shouyou is left behind, wondering if he was being flirted with or not. He had no idea. Mind whirring itself into a mess, he follows Miya at a slow pace, then catches up to him by jogging forward when Miya looks around to see why he’s lagging behind.

“I’ll walk you back to the store,” Miya says he opens his own to retrieve Shouyou’s apron. Shouyou hears himself agreeing, his mind aflame with the thought of how Miya looks underneath all the clothes. Some of the pictures online had been lewd, not by what Miya was showing off, but the facial expression he made. There were embers of a smile, hidden. Eyes always lidded, seducing. Shouyou feels dumb thinking about that, and shakes his head at the highly inappropiate thoughts.

“Here ya go,” Miya says, his Kansai-accent slurring the sentence ending. Shouyou takes his apron with a murmured thanks, his mind clouded in thought.

To like it when Miya walks a bit closer to him.

To want to touch the tattoos.

To ask where else he has tattoos or piercings.

Generally, Shouyou realizes as they walk and he looks at his shoes, he would like to get to know Miya a bit better. He wasn’t just that handsome punk that had walked into the store the other day. Shouyou didn’t know what to make of these weird feelings in his chest, or of the want for so much more. He had felt stirrings like this in high school, with classmates or people from the club he knew for 2 years. He’s suppressed them whenever someone cute walks into the store; it’s mostly their looks, but sometimes also the personalities of the regular customers that have Shouyou develop a crush. He feels it with Miya too, but it's much more pressing. Like an alarm that goes off every single time.

“Hey this weekend, are you free? We could go somewhere else,” Miya says, bumping the tattoo-less elbow against Shouyou’s upper arm. The rolled up sleeves make him look even more handsome. The squawking sound Shouyou makes derives from the sudden warm brush. He couldn’t be sure if Miya even felt an inch the same. Or if he wanted something else, maybe something less deep and more surface-level. Tanaka has told him about those sorts of relations too. Shouyou looks up to where Birds of a Feather awaits him back with open wings.

“I’m off Sunday,” Shouyou says, mentioning how the store is closed. Miya nods. Then, Shouyou’s forehead is assaulted with the corner of Miya’s phone.

“Give me your number. We can hash out details on Friday.”

*

*

It’s less than a phone call and more a humiliation. Osamu didn’t just paint a target on his back, he’s made the whole circle the bullseye. Every barb and snort and stupid remark Atsumu sends his way, there’s no fighting against it. Osamu, for once, has nothing to say in return. He leans against his store-front, peering down the street. Birds of a Feather had shut its doors hours ago. His final client of the day had gone off happy, if sore from the pain in their shoulder.

Osamu makes his stare go to the opposite direction from where the better side of town lies. In this part, he watches some punks talk softly among themselves. There’s a group of girls, scantily clad walking past; the boys leave them alone. What exactly is supposed to be so ‘bad’ on this side of town, Osamu hasn’t the slightest idea. All the people who visit his shop are kind, excited. Some first-timers are nervous or take some time to explain exactly what they want inked on their skin. Some call him ‘nii-chan’ even though he’s not much older. In the evenings, people on the street might raise their voices, or cuss out each other. But Osamu has seen the same groups whisper among themselves. Whisper-shouting sometimes, to let Osamu hear how they give each other hope about a job application, or ask someone’s number. His neighbours are nice, here and around his apartment area. The dogs here were pomeranians and fuzzy chihuahuas, and Osamu has met one cute little pitbull.

There’s graffiti everywhere except on the few businesses with their less bubbly-coloured storefronts. A few are boarded up, and they display actual artwork. Osamu admires them, adding the most interesting pieces to his Instagram story.

Zoning out, Osamu casts his gaze onto the street which would lead him to his favourite shop. After what feels to be an hour, Atsumu has finally laughed his last laugh. There’s wheezes of ‘on a Sunday’ still echoing, but he’s mostly calmed down. Osamu doesn’t care. Anytime Hinata wanted to see him, he’d arrive. Anywhere he wanted to go, Osamu would enjoy it. There was something about that ginger boy that keeps Osamu’s mind running wild, wishing to reach out towards the sun to feel more of its light.

“Good luck seducing him then,” Atsumu says at last, and Osamu hangs up. It wasn’t just that. Far from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My partner for this was Mooks, please make sure to check out [ their art too QQ](https://twitter.com/mookzymooks/status/1249678396361039873)
> 
> also osahina nation where you at??? manga-onlies are you with me on this?? if you're reading this after the inarizaki match, pls;;; i loved this pair for so long and i hope others like them too TT


	2. Chapter 2

Kenma’s face falls. “How will you manage to sing in the band and hand out tea...and why did she agree to have tea in the bar...” Kenma asks, voice trailing off.

Sugawara shrugs that it is all about schedules and logistics. Back from his mini-vacation, he brought pizza after closing time. Tonight’s plan had been to check the inventory for the festival. Their store would be closed like on any Sunday, but Sugawara’s band would perform at their local bar around 7 pm. And apparently, he’d wanted to promote their store with small servings of teas there as well.

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Sugawara asks them both, and Kenma declines right away, while Shouyou fumbles. He was supposed to meet Miya Sunday afternoon. Looking down, he hears Sugawara say to Kenma, “You don’t have to help out or work, I can get others to do that. But just come, for once, Kenma!” 

Kenma shakes his head, then nods at Shouyou. 

“He won’t be able to come either, will you, Shouyou?” Kenma’s grin is evil, and Shouyou shudders as he sees it. As soon as the words are out, Sugawara’s arm reaches over Shouyou’s shoulder, pulling him close.

“Hmmm! Is that about this tattoo-guy I’ve heard so precious little about!?” Sugawara coaxes, shaking Shouyou who doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, and so shoves another pizza slice to his mouth. Kenma leans his elbow on his knee, and his head on his fist. His eyes gleam with knowledge he couldn’t possibly have, as Shouyou has been utmost private about it all.

“Kuro said he saw you guys exchange numbers,” Kenma says, and Sugawara whistles. It was known within these walls that Shouyou only shared contact details with friends. Flirts went mostly over his head, or he was too flustered when it happened. Hearing where Kenma got his information from, Shouyou quickly swallows his pizza, and points an accusatory finger at Kenma, and by extension, Kuroo.

“Why was he even there? I didn’t see him until later, and he asked me so many questions about Miya.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Kenma sips his tea, looking away. He mutters something about ‘volunteered’, at which Shouyou blinks. Sugawara snorts.

“You know how protective Shimizu is of us. She actually doubled the amount of times our block gets circled by her gang. Plus, that tattoo shop opened in her turf. Maybe she just wants to know who enters her side of the town, huh?” Sugawara offers, not having let go of Shouyou yet. “She’s not going to just invade your privacy, but I think she’ll send more flunkies out to check both up on you and that kid. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.”

Looking down at the final slice being taken up by Sugawara, Shouyou wonders if he should talk to Shimizu. It was known that their tea shop was under protection by her clan, but that didn’t mean that Shouyou needed help outside of it. After all, he was semi-able to fend off anyone by himself. Getting peeved at how some people thought he needed to be safeguarded, or had to be stupid towards Miya, Shouyou looks up to Sugawara.

“Could you please talk to her and ask if she could lay off...I—I’m meeting Miya tomorrow at the market. I don’t want to be followed or for him to be uncomfortable.”

Smiling gently, Sugawara ruffles Shouyou’s hair with his clean hand.

“You know we’re one big family, right? We all look out for each other. You can call Shimizu yourself and tell her how you were the one attacking Miya with a baseball bat! I am sure that will keep off any watch dogs. But it’s her business to know who’s who in her part, so don’t worry too much about it.” Sugawara’s words have so much truth in it that Shouyou doesn’t know how to react. Shimizu has ruled the ‘bad’ side of the neighbourhood since she was 19. Her enforcers were strong and plenty, all of them friendly towards Shouyou. They’d always choose to intimidate by sheer skill, and use brute force as a last resort. 

Still, Shouyou hadn’t asked for any of this. And he didn’t want to scare Miya away!

For now, he had to deal with the slight teasing of Sugawara and Kenma. Shouyou knew that Sugawara would find a way to get Kenma to come to the bar on Sunday night, even if he wouldn’t have to help out and just sit in a corner with his game console. Shouyou wasn’t sure what he’d be doing on Sunday night. Not yet. With Miya...so much seemed possible.

And Shouyou hates how much he wants to know more than just that cool face, hear more of that smooth voice, and maybe be held by those strong, inked arms.

*

*

Sunday was definitely not date night. Especially when they’re meeting up in the late afternoon. Osamu looks around in the area. Apart from the day and time being all wrong, this wasn’t completely his scene either. Looking over the market stalls, he wonders if this could even be considered a date, and not just a friendly hang out. Not one to squander opportunities, Osamu braves a sweet smile when Hinata introduces him to the grocer market’s regulars. He tells Osamu all about the little businesses from their side of town.

Loving the smells of food even if it’s uncooked or fresh fruit, Osamu doesn’t mind it much at all to be here. He and Hinata get takoyaki at one stand, try out deep-fried and cheesed up onions. Another stall hands Hinata biscuits for free, and Osamu a weird-looking olive dip to go with it. There’s foreign-looking food from expats, cheap clothing being sold in one area, children’s toys in another. 

Osamu isn’t blind, and sees guys dressed in black and wearing dark shades in the corner. Were they the mob Hinata had been so prepared against? When the crowd ahead becomes thicker, Osamu puts a protective arm over Hinata’s shoulders. He receives a mild squak as a reaction. In the next moment Hinata presses back into Osamu’s side. It’s so warm that Osamu keeps his chin up and looks straight ahead, walking near-blind past other food stalls who have their wares for trying on high tables.

“It’s quite lively here, at this time,” Osamu wonders, his eyes unable to look away from the stalls too long. 

“The market doesn’t open until 1 on Sunday! If it opens on a Saturday, they’re here from 8 am.”

When they come to one of the market’s edges, Osamu sees an opening to pull Hinata out of the crowd with him. He looks around, desperate to find a cafe, a bar, somewhere to sit down and flirt at, to get to know Hinata better than his food preferences. That’s equally important, sure, but not what Osamu would like to know right this moment. It’s not like he is in any haste; and yet his heart races under the prolonged touch between his arm and Hinata’s bare neck. It really took just this little to get him excited?

Maybe, just maybe...he was a softie who enjoyed a stroll over the market as much as anything else.

Sighing, he’s just unlucky in finding something appropriate. Osamu guides Hinata through another aisle of the market, still not able to find a single potential place to sit down and hold a beverage of some sort. Osamu brings his mouth close to Hinata’s ear.

“Hey,” he whispers in a smooth tone, “Do you know any place—” Is how far Osamu gets, before Hinata jumps. It’s not just a twitch under Osamu’s arm. Hinata jumps away from him, into the side of an old woman, knocking a grocery basket out her frail hands. In awe, Osamu watches on as Hinata makes a graceful spin at inhuman speed, catching the basket. Not a single apple or potato skips out over the braided edge. The basket is back in the lady’s arms, who hadn’t noticed much.

“Oh, thank you child,” she says in an old croaky voice, handing Hinata a daikon. “Shouyou-kun, isn’t it? Yes, yes, the one with ginger hair... I will bring dried squid next week.”

“Thank you very much!” Hinata says with a happy grin, bowing to the old woman who must be a frequent customer. She walks on as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Hinata looks after the woman who gets greeted by others. Osamu looks on before he brings his eyes back to Hinata, questioning him and what the hell that move was all about. 

As soon as Hinata looks back at him—or at his shoulder, the space above Osamu’s head, or the stall behind Osamu—he rubs the back of his hair, stammers about; only god can understand. Osamu sighs, wondering what Hinata is so nervous about. Opening his mouth to ask that question, he’s interrupted.

Loudly.

_Brashly._

From the other side of the aisle, Osamu watches as two mean-looking punks head his way. They call Hinata’s name in one breath, demanding Osamu’s, or as he’s titled ‘inked shithead’, in the next.

They’re not dressed in black, but the glare of the sun reflecting off sunglasses gets Osamu’s attention. Looking down, he sees hands shoved low in the tracksuit pants pockets. The shoulders hunch forward, their teeth bared. Osamu is sure they live around his block somewhere. He hasn’t seen them once before, but they’d fit right in. Typical behaviour that Osamu has seen a lot in his lifetime. It came from guys who looked like they would pick a fight, then drink beer with you, _then_ give other men compliments in the bathroom, and then finally would return to ask Osamu to do their tattoos. 

Right now they’re annoying, though, standing between him and Hinata near the edge of the market. Hinata greets them, tries to soothe down the guy with the complete shaven cut because he’s closest to him. Meanwhile, without backing down, Osamu stares down the other guy with the thin eyebrows, bleached mohawk topped off with sunglasses, and the thinnest excuse for a goatee. He can hardly look elsewhere, as this guy stands and leans in close to his face.

“I’m not asking again, punk. What are your intentions with our Shouyou!?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Osamu is once more finding himself opening his mouth, only to be interrupted. This time it’s Hinata.

“Yamamoto-san, please don’t say ‘our’ like that,” Hinata says. _That’s the thing he finds ridiculous!?_ Osamu wonders. Then he notices how no one else around them cares about the behaviour of this disturbance. They moved past the shaven-haired guy, chatting about the price of strawberries. They didn’t mind the mohawk trying to push Osamu backwards (with his presence alone, to no avail). At first, Osamu can’t help but think that he’s the new one here, or the town is used to this.

Hinata coming to Osamu’s aid manages to not just make ‘Yamamoto-san’ back off; the shaven-haired guy, titled ‘Tanaka-senpai’, doesn’t step closer to Osamu either. Instead, he puts his chin on Yamamoto’s back. Almost cute like. Their behaviour of immediate silence reminds Osamu of reprimanded puppies. Big puppies. They still stare at Osamu, over Hinata’s head.

“If you wanted a badass boyfriend so badly, Shouyou-chan, you know you could have come to me~” A voice says right next to Osamu, as the stranger’s arm presses down his shoulder. Looking to his side, Osamu finds the amount of interferers multiplying out of thin air. Next to him stands a boy with hair similar to Atsumu’s, only shorter. He wears a tracksuit too, in screaming yellow. Then he looks from Hinata to Osamu, eyes lidded, and tongue peeking out. Osamu leans away on instinct, not because of the metal tongue piercing. The tongue retracts when the new stranger speaks.

“And who might you be..?” 

Staying silent because he doesn’t owe anyone anything, Osamu crosses his chest. Hinata has his hands full trying to dissolve the tension. Incredibly, they all listen to him. To Osamu’s surprise, Hinata looks mad. Or, as mad as he’s seen him that first day in the tea shop.

“If you guys don’t stop, I will call Daichi-san, Kuroo-san, _and_ Hana-nee-chan!”

“Ahahaha, no need for that, Shouyou!” 

Osamu, who thought it couldn’t get worse, watches as a blond woman approaches them. She holds two baskets, giving one each to Tanaka and Yamamoto. They both greet her in various fashions; Tanaka calls her sister in an annoyed tone, and Yamamoto calls her sister in a chirpy voice. It takes Osamu less than a second to see the sibling resemblance. Blinking, Osamu gets his first stroke of luck as the woman, beautiful and dangerous in her own right, pushes the first two punks along. 

“Obviously there is no need for you guys to be protective here, so move along! And don’t just skip out on helping me make dinner preparations. You guys know what that leads to!” The girl says, called ‘Saeko-nee-san’ by Hinata. Osamu’s eyes are wide, and he freezes when the probably older Tanaka-sibling points at his chest. “And _you_ , I better not hear any sadness or worry from Shouyou if he mentions you, alright? That’s a dear,” Saeko says, still pushing her underlings along. She then looks at the blond guy next to Osamu, stares him down. 

“Terushima, I cannot remember anyone giving you this much shit for trying to date Hana-chan, so. Be a good boy and get moving! I got a beer delivery coming tonight and you will help!”

Terushima sighs, takes his person off Osamu, and says “Yes yes, Saeko-san,” as he follows too. He waves goodbye to Hinata and quickly exchanges a rude gesture for a peace sign thrown in Osamu’s direction as he gets lost in the crowd.

Without trying to be too familiar, in case the protection squad returns, Osamu walks out of the aisles and exits the market, watching Hinata who follows along, apologizing. A terrible thought comes to Osamu’s mind, one he doesn’t want to utter. Given that he says what he thinks, always, he can’t help but ask Hinata as soon as they’re out of the busy market place.

“Say...did you tell them you’d meet me here?”

“Huh? Eh no, I didn’t,” Hinata says, an edge of confusion in his tone. “There’s a festival tonight and Saeko-nee-chan has her bar and restaurant open for that occasion. She always does her groceries here for that festival, usually with Akiteru-san though…”

Not giving any thought to who that might be, Osamu keeps his distance as he looks down Hinata. So he didn’t call in reinforcements… Osamu is prone to believe it. Still, that doesn’t explain that one meter jump to the side Hinata did when Osamu’s lips barely brushed the top of his ear. He lets Hinata talk about the festival and how the three hoodlums from before would perform in a band with someone called Nishinoya.

“They‘re also the accompanying band when Suga-san sings! That’s really a sight,” Hinata smiles. Osamu has half a mind to say he wants to check it out for sure, but part of him really just wants Hinata to himself somewhere… Feeling possessive wasn’t in his nature, and he was used to things not always being just ‘his’ to have. Plus, you couldn’t own a person. He had those words tattooed somewhere on his back, a reminder to anyone who’d see it, or who would be intimate with him to that degree.

Unable to know Hinata’s feelings on that, and still nowhere in sight to ask those questions with a table between them or a bar to lean on, Osamu steps forward.

“Sorry if I got a little too close there just now. I wanted to ask if you knew a cafe someplace,” Osamu asks, getting bombarded with addresses for cat cafes, dog cafes, owl cafes. There’s cafes with specialized cakes, ones good for high tea, cheap ones where you can get boba. Hinata tells him about a waffle house that opened on the other side of the city, and a book cafe closer by. Staring down, Osamu brings his feet closer as Hinata keeps naming up any sort of cute bubbly place, until Osamu’s hands come down his shoulders.

“The bar the...older sister works at. Where is it? Does it stay open without her?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hinata says, head tilting to the side. “But it’s closed for another 15 minutes, and a walk there would take 10 minutes, I think. Saeko’s cafe options only have a dark espresso though,” Hinata says, his mind working visibly to remember if there’s anything cafe-like in there. Osamu shakes his head, thinking this situation will be funny when he thinks of it later on.

“No, no, I don’t necessarily need coffee or tea. You’re above 20, right? Let’s walk there and get a beer.”

*

*

Though thinking it might be a bit early for a beer, Shouyou does nothing to dissuade Miya or try and think of more cafes to walk to instead. They arrive at the ‘BEAR STRENGTH’ bar. Shouyou has been here countless times. Meeting up with people from high school, celebrating successes within his circle of friends, getting dragged here by Sugawara, Tanaka, Kuroo—who made him bring Kenma because Sugawara was unable to. He met up here to watch various sports matches with his best friends Kouji and Izumi. Even Ushijima and Aone, who prefered water or tea over beer, have come here with him to hang out. To Shouyou, the bar was no novelty, and more like one of the many places outside his apartment where he feels at home. Where he feels safe.

Miya, who’s asked him to call him Osamu already and leave out the honorifics, didn’t change that. Hinata still feels calm despite his presence, as they sit at a bench close to the bar without looking too conspicuous. Shouyou wishes he would have eaten more of his fill at the market. Saeko would have bar snacks, and she’s been known to make okonomiyaki for her closests friends and family when she was drunk (tipsy she would call it) and hungry. His stomach makes the oddest twists sitting next to Osamu, and he can’t imagine why. 

Sure Osamu’s arm had been right in his neck, his fingers traveling lightly over his shoulder and arm. The thought of his lips against Shouyou’s ear still makes him blush hard and tense up.

They were far away from the bustling market, and this street knows little traffic at this hour. Shouyou doesn’t question why Osamu was inviting him to a beer. Maybe he was just thirsty, or wanted to check out where Saeko worked. Maybe...after seeing her, Osamu has gotten an interest in Saeko. This hurts Shouyou’s stomach all the more, and makes his fidgeting hands clench together.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you feel nervous?” Osamu asks, bending his torso to look at Shouyou who has been curling up on himself without knowing he was doing that. Sitting straight up, Shouyou shakes his head wildly.

“N-no, I’m fine!”

“...You don’t look like it...Am I making you nervous?” Osamu asks, his feet brushing over the pavement when he brings his heels back and under the bench. He looks worried, Shouyou thinks, warmed by the idea that it was for his sake. Then immediately apologizing for it out loud. Osamu laughs, says it’s fine. On their walk here, Osamu had asked about the other guys, but nothing about Saeko. Shouyou now guesses Osamu would want to ask Saeko herself—then he blurts out that she’s taken.

“She’s already dating someone, you know! Saeko-nee-chan is!”

Osamu blinks at him. “Uh...okay? I don’t think it's any of my business. Why did you mention it?”

Shouyou draws a blank as confusion and stupidity mix in his head like acid to the flame. The worst of it makes his tongue weak to answer or come up with the reasoning he believed to be true moments ago. He looks to the ground, one eyebrow quivering, his mouth attempting a smile and failing miserably at it. The sun behind warms his back, and Shouyou looks at their shadows in front. Osamu’s shadow close to his, closer to him still only the man himself.

Shouyou’s face turns to the side, but not by his doing. Osamu has his chin between finger and thumb, pushing it gently.

Before Shouyou could mutter another word, his next breath is a shared one. He stares at Osamu’s closed lids, the length of his dark lashes. Osamu’s hair brushes Shouyou’s forehead, a hum coming from him to give Shouyou a tremble of excitement; it starts at his lips, then rushes through his entire being. For once, there’s no confusion, no question, not a single worry or doubt in his mind. The ‘why’ is immediately answered when Osamu’s thumb and finger brush through Shouyou’s hair. Osamu’s fingers curl in the short strands of his hair. There’s the sense coming from those fingers, wanting more, to have Shouyou close longer. Not just during the kiss.

To stay with Osamu.

When Osamu parts their lips, that hand falls back into his own lap, to mimic the way Shouyou’s hands had been earlier; clenching and fidgeting. He smiles, then apologizes.

“I didn’t think you’d understand any other way…”

Understanding ‘what’ has become clearer to Shouyou, who doesn’t know what to think of being kissed. Surely he’s got to be red all over, or would fall as soon as he tries to get up from the bench. His legs are like jelly, and he’s thankful to be sitting. Afraid to ruin whatever moment they were having, Shouyou sits back against the bench, staring straight ahead. He levels his hands flat against the sides of his thighs. Somehow, it seems rude to stay silent, however…

In one quick move, Shouyou swings his torso to Osamu’s side, bows and yells, “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!” 

Looking up isn’t an option, so Shouyou bustles away, speed-talking about the weather, his surroundings, or how gorgeous this part of the town is. He hears gentle footfalls beside him, coming closer. He turns around instantly, restraining his arms from going up in an attack-position. Osamu’s face appears void of emotion. The look he gives Shouyou isn’t a decipherable one. Then he holds out his hand to Shouyou, palm tilting up to the sky. Shouyou’s mouth, his brain, and his entire body becomes still. 

“Wanna try and hold my hand? I do intend to stay honest with you...so, if you’d rather leave,” Osamu says, and Shouyou isn’t letting him finish. He takes Osamu’s hand; it’s not clammy or nervous, like his own. Feeling a bit awkward just standing there like this, Shouyou is glad when he sees movement behind Osamu.

“Ah, Saeko-nee-san,” he says. Saeko waves at him, hands free and no one tailing behind her. Her wave becomes beckoning, and she vanishes into her bar. After a moment of hesitation, Shouyou pulls Osamu to the bar, and they soon walk side by side, holding hands. A nervous feeling travels up and down within Shouyou, like a rollercoaster that constantly rises and drops. Going in, he knows what Osamu’s intentions are. 

Shouyou doesn’t dislike what it might entail, but he’s feeling stupid and frightful about it all the same.

*

*

The signals he’s receiving aren’t exactly mixed. Osamu soon understands that Hinata is a bit shy and perhaps on edge. Osamu does his best to dial down how close he tries to be and to not make too many innuendos in his conversations. Thankfully, the beer seems to loosen it up; Hinata likes the taste, he tells Osamu, and nurses his one for some time before allowing Osamu to order another one. The tall bartender stays off to the side and out of earshot afterwards. Osamu glances at the guy, who hasn’t said a word to them yet. He and Hinata had only exchanged one deep bow upon entering, and no verbal communication transpired between them afterwards, until Osamu ordered drinks.

Osamu rests his head on his fist, eyes looking over Hinata—Shouyou, he thinks instead. There was something unsaid there, something that wanted to be told but needed some encouraging. Trying not to think about the loud ‘thank you!’ for the kiss, Osamu’s free hand dances over the wooden top towards Shouyou, getting his attention. He doesn’t have to say anything or coax whatever is on Shouyou’s mind, as Shouyou’s mouth opens.

“I...the kiss. I liked it but,” Shouyou says without looking at Osamu. A good thing. Just like Osamu’s heart and stomach, his face was falling. This was a rejection incoming, he knew it. Shouyou looks up at him, with those shining eyes, warm and beautiful. Osamu wants to look away, feels like he must. But he can’t. Shouyou’s eyes show something else, too. A bright fire, something hopeful. Or was Osamu imagining things to make his heart unbreak?

“Please give me a warning next time, or ask first!” Shouyou says, less awkward than Osamu thought this could be. He blinks. ‘Next time’ wasn’t a rejection. Shouyou’s fingers fumble around his beer. “I—I didn’t mind it as much as that it took me by surprise, but...you should know I...I want to get to know you better before a-anything like that occurs and—” Shouyou stammers. Still, the words and meaning are crystal clear to Osamu.

Understanding dawns like the first ray of the morning sun. A bright promise. Osamu smiles his previous hurt and confusion away.

“Oh I see. You’re demisexual. That makes sense.”

Shouyou blinks. “Uh, I’m a what now? No, I am pan!”

Shit, did Osamu get it completely wrong..? “I just thought, because you wanted to know me as a person better before anything else...Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

But Shouyou leans in, his eyes brighter than before. “No, no that’s fine. It’s just. I really like your pretty face and your incredible body physique!” Shouyou blurts out, not one bit ashamed. He balls his fist up, and balances barely on the barstool, like he might jump off any moment. “Like, I first always thought I was bisexual, like Tanaka-senpai, Tora-san and Teru-san,” Shouyou blabbers, and Osamu thinks back to the guys from the market. That would explain ‘Hana-nee-chan’, who could of course still be a dude or another gender, someone in drag or a transsexual...Osamu takes a sip from his beer.

“I’m bisexual,” he says. “But if I like men or women depends...it changes in phases, almost.” Right now, the only person Osamu wanted was this guy in front of him. He could look at Saeko and think she was gorgeous, but there the thoughts stopped. “I appreciate a person’s looks and their attitude, first thing.”

Shouyou’s eyes widen. “Yes, that’s what I feel like too! I never heard of demisexual though, or ‘phases’…” Shouyou says, and Osamu explains as much as he knows about it. Kita had been like that, but things tended to be more grey with him nowadays. He explains it to Shouyou, whose eyes widen with understanding. At the end of Osamu’s explanation, he becomes pensive again, putting his finger on his chin. Osamu has no idea what goes through Shouyou’s mind. Less so when Shouyou bumps his fist into his hand, having a ‘Aha’ moment for sure, without Osamu having the faintest idea what about.

Shouyou looks at him, mouth open, but then closes it again. Osamu considers asking, then thinks whatever Shouyou thought about right now might be too private for him to know. He rubs the back of his head. 

“I don’t wanna apologize for kissing you. I will keep it in mind for the future, and,” Osamu looks away, into nothing. “I would like to get to know you better too, Shouyou-kun,” Osamu says, eyes glancing back. Shouyou’s sweet blush makes a nice return in the dim light of the bar. It only fuels Osamu’s need to seduce Shouyou a little bit more. He’d take it slow, not just for the sake of getting into Shouyou’s bed or him in Osamu’s. The playing field hasn’t changed, only the rules. Osamu would abide by them, still wanting Shouyou as much as before.

He promises to be more considerate, and not rush it. “You can come and drink tea any day when our lunch-breaks align. You just let me know, okay?”

Thankfully, Shouyou nods. His blush and beer are there 50%.

Osamu pays, not having seen the older Tanaka sibling here anywhere. Their bartender nods to Osamu, then gives Shouyou that same deep bow, which Shouyou, standing in front of the bar, promptly returns. Wordless once more. There’s no one here, except a dark figure in the corner. Osamu can’t make them out, as the light overhead of them was switched off for some reason. Shaking his head at his paranoia, Osamu follows Shouyou out the door, leaving the mysterious person behind to be mysterious by themselves.

Outside, Osamu looks up at the darkening sky. “I will walk you home,” he offers to Shouyou, who shakes his head.

“T-there’s no need for that!” Shouyou stutters, his blush rising. Osamu thinks ‘75%’, and accepts that he might be moving too quickly for Shouyou. Instead, they walk towards the market, where sales people are packing up their wares. They walk side by side, and Osamu peers at corners, thinking he sees movement in black. At their first meeting, Shouyou thought of him as a gang-member, but he’s painfully oblivious to all these actual mobsters around them. Osamu puts his arm around his shoulder, pulls Shouyou close, and glares at spots that are now void of people. Just for good measure.

Shouyou doesn’t budge or squirm away from him. A timid hand lands on Osamu’s lower back, and they tread carefully to their meeting point earlier that day. Shouyou’s bike stands there, waiting to take him wherever he lives.

“Say, earlier in the bar. It seemed like a light bulb appeared above your head. What were you thinking about?” Osamu asks, hands back in his pockets. Shouyou’s face scrunches up in thought, and then he blushes again, very lightly. Taking the bike handles, Shouyou kicks the stand up, his gaze drifting past Osamu’s head.

“Ah just...that you were guessing my sexuality and uh, how you’d come to that conclusion and uhmmm,” Shouyou says, one foot shuffling, fingers fidgeting on top of the handle bar. Osamu steps closer, hearing shuffling behind himself too, but ignoring it. Shouyou’s eyes snap to him, and Osamu leans his body forward, throwing a shadow over Shouyou.

“It’s fine, you know? If you tell me stuff, or don’t. It’s up to you. I thought it was funny how your fist came down your palm, and your face looked so cute when understanding dawned on it.” The corner of Osamu’s mouth quirks up, and he leaves a kiss on Shouyou’s forehead, soft and sweet. There’s shuffling behind him again, a cigarette lit. But Shouyou’s eyes stay on his, completely still and silent. 

Mouth opening and closing, Shouyou’s eyes shift upon Osamu’s face. Whatever conclusion he comes to this time, he actually tells Osamu.

“I don’t have...much experience with—dating and stuff,” Shouyou says. Osamu keeps his smile neutral, not wanting to be patronizing or smug or anything. He figured that much. Even behind the spitfire attitude shown at their first meeting, Shouyou has also shown bouts of shyness and timidity. It made Osamu wonder how he’d be in private, when they’d get intimate.

“That’s fine. I’ll take good care of you. Such as taking you out somewhere that isn’t a crowded market,” Osamu smiles and Shouyou’s brows come down at once.

“Hey! I wanted to show you this!” Shouyou says, and Osamu’s head comes down once more, hesitates. Oh, how he wants to silence Shouyou with his lips. But he doesn’t, and doesn’t ask either. Shouyou’s hand shoots out to his neck. His thumb trails Osamu’s neck tattoo. There’s something Osamu is supposed to ask, but doing so might ruin the moment. Plus, he’s pretty sure it’s an unsaid thing between them now, that they are together. 

They say goodbye at least, and Osamu stays behind and watches Shouyou leave on his bike. When he turns around, the streets are positively empty of any mobsters trailing him. He wonders who is in charge of them and this town, and if that same person had sent those three bisexual punks over, too. It might forever be a mystery.

*

*

A week of courtship, as Sugawara calls it, passes by like that. Miya comes by every day, at least once, or texts Shouyou to let him know when he’s on break so they can have lunch together. Miya laments that they don’t go on a lot of dates, and Shouyou was surprised to hear that the visit to the market could be seen as one. Going to Saeko’s bar, maybe. Sugawara and Kenma tease Shouyou about it.

Shouyou has gotten used to Miya’s looks, his hopeful touches. He’s tentative and careful. Sometimes he pushes a little, or makes a dirty joke that has Shouyou stuttering a reply or issuing a combative stance in return. But the feeling never feels off or fading; instead, it has intensified. Shouyou doesn’t mind the teases, the lingering touches. Miya has started to touch Shouyou’s neck, never pulling, never scratching his nails there. And yet, it makes Shouyou feel hot all over, feeling burned where those gentle fingers touch the nape of his neck. Miya was a touchy-sorta guy, and Shouyou wondered where it came from.

Finishing up and leaving Sugawara and Kenma behind with a quick ‘goodbye, thanks for today!’ Shouyou does a quick race on his bike to Miya’s parlour. He’s not afraid of this neighbourhood anymore, knew he never had to be in fact. Still, he can’t wait to see Miya. tonight, they’d watch a movie Shouyou loves.

A bit nervous about where they will watch it, Shouyou slows down as he reaches the tattoo parlour. The new neon sign has already switched to a red ‘closed’. Coming to stand in front of the large windows, Shouyou finds Miya sitting inside waiting for him, head looking up when he notices movement. The smile is immediate and warm. Miya gets up to open the door, and lets Shouyou in—the bells above him make their welcoming sound—Miya’s lips meet his without Shouyou’s second foot even being completely over the doorstep. Shouyou comes to a halt slowly, neck craning up as Miya presses down into the kiss.

“Hey Hinata,” Miya says, his breath warm on Shouyou’s lips. Miya always tells him to call him ‘Osamu’, but he never calls Shouyou by his first name! Huffing at the greeting, Shouyou gives Miya the cold shoulder for 5 seconds, then turns around to him.

“Are we going to eat something beforehand?”

Miya smiles. “As long as you’re with me, you never have to worry about food.”

 _With him_ , Shouyou’s dream. He blushes, muttering to himself under his breath, not loud enough for Miya to catch it. Miya goes to get his stuff, then turns to him, cupping his hand next to his ear, looking at Shouyou. Blushing and flailing his hand, Shouyou nearly stumbles into the chair meant for clients getting their tattoos. Miya huffs behind him.

“Careful, Hinata.”

“Call me Shouyou! If you want to be called by your first name by me…” Shouyou says, as Miya comes over to loom over him.

*

*

Osamu looks down at Shouyou, at the embarrassed blush reaching the ears, the sure-footed stance, the squared shoulders. So much of what Osamu likes about Shouyou stands in front of him, just like that first day. Sometimes Shouyou is so unguarded, on other days, he never lowers it. Osamu keeps his voice level when he says the name out loud to hear, and not just to himself in an empty, otherwise silent store.

“Shouyou,” Osamu says softly, unblinking as he watches a change go through Shouyou once again. He gestures to the door.

“Last chance to change your mind. We can still go to the cinema instead, surrounded by a bunch of people,” Osamu grins as Shouyou’s face challenges him. “Or, like we planned, watch your favourite movie at my place and have dinner there. I told ya it’s not far from here.” He watches Shouyou carefully, as a darker shade of red runs over his entire face.

To Osamu’s surprise, Shouyou nods. “Okay, let’s go there then.” Shouyou appears surprised too, heading out before Osamu.

Osamu had invited him over before, but Shouyou always declined. Even when Osamu tried to assure him he didn’t have to stay over. For them to have dinner, watch a movie together...Surely Shouyou knows Osamu wouldn’t let him bike all the way home at night? Even if they’re adults, or _because_ they are, Osamu wants Shouyou to stay the night. It’s not even because he wants to do stuff—which he does, sure. He just...wants to curl around Shouyou and fall asleep with him by his side.

“It’s not far,” Osamu says again after he closes up and sees Shouyou step up onto his bike. Shouyou, calming down by riding ahead, U-turning, riding large circles around Osamu, doesn’t say anything. Hands in his pockets, Osamu doesn’t press him. He could make innuendos here, hint at them exploring new layers in their relationship. Shouyou beats him to it, in a way that Osamu couldn’t expect. 

Cycling slowly besides him, Shouyou looks ahead as he asks, “Are we boyfriends?”

Osamu snorts through his nose, shaking his head as Shouyou gets mad at him.

“...I figured we’d been since the bar. Did you think we were still in the dating stage?”

“No!” Shouyou lies, “I thought perfectly well we were together, I guess,” he lies some more, voice softening with doubt running through it. “You never asked if you could, so!”

Osamu crooks an eyebrow. “Do I have to ask everything? Isn’t it obvious when I want to kiss you, or that I like you a lot?” He points to a corner, before Shouyou can think of cycling down the wrong street. Shouyou hasn’t turned red this time, and he steps off the bike to walk besides Osamu. Sitting and standing on the bike had given him a slight advantage in height, which is now gone. Osamu wants to hold his hand, but Shouyou keeps them steady on the handlebars. His eyes focus on some place else, somewhere in his mind. Osamu isn’t privy to the thought process, but also doesn’t want to push Shouyou too much. He could always decide he didn’t want to hang out and cycle home.

Osamu also noted that, despite Shouyou’s words earlier, the guy himself hasn’t called Osamu by his first name.

They reach Osamu’s apartment before Shouyou changes his mind. Unlocking the door with his key, Osamu doesn’t shoulder it open like he usually would to get inside. He watches Shouyou kick the stand of his bike, locking it. Osamu knows it’s safer inside. He mutters it, and Shouyou looks up to him. 

“What?” Shouyou asks, holding the key of his bike. Looking at this unguarded face, Osamu doesn’t remember the last time he had to ask such a question—if someone wants to be with him. Despite his earlier objections of not wanting to ask about every little detail, he should consider Shouyou’s feelings. And what appears to be important to him.

“Hinata Shouyou, do you want to be my boyfriend?” 

Shouyou’s eyes slightly widen, still clear and unafraid. “Yes,” he says, his voice deeper. Osamu smiles, then shoulders the door open and let’s Shouyou enter first after. Osamu doesn’t want to worry about the bike, so he lifts it inside. He watches Shouyou walk in saying ‘sorry for the intrusion’. Watching his shoulders move, Osamu breathes a sigh of relief. Shouyou said yes.

He gives Shouyou something to drink and lets him look around. Osamu’s apartment is small and there’s nothing fancy or extraordinary here. He has art pieces from clients who wanted to thank him, all of them in a row on the ground. He puts the food boxes down, one by one, into the microwave. He gathers everything they need to eat, and Osamu looks as Shouyou sits down on a small couch. Small comforts Osamu allows himself when he’s not at work bending over and concentrating on inking someone.

“Ah uh, I need to use the bathroom!” Shouyou says as Osamu brings over steaming food. Putting the plates and bowls down like an expert waiter, Osamu points to the right door. Shouyou bolts. Blinking, Osamu sets up the tablet on a tray so they can watch and eat. Maybe today isn’t the right day after all… Changing gears mentally, Osamu waits for Shouyou to return. 

Watching the movie, Osamu doesn’t run his hands wildly over Shouyou. As soon as they’re done eating and sink back into the couch, Osamu puts his arm around Shouyou, to keep it there, his hand hanging off in the air. For the first 20 minutes of the movie, Shouyou’s shoulders feel stiff under him. Then he re-positions himself against Osamu, his own arm going over Osamu’s stomach, his cheek pressing to Osamu’s chest. Content with this, and only this for the night, Osamu brings his focus back to the movie. The warmth against his body is so cozy that he wishes Shouyou would fall asleep like this. 

At the end of the movie, Shouyou says he’ll go home. Osamu doesn’t press him, because he simply can’t. He nods, bringing Shouyou to the door. It opens roughly.

“Shitty door hm?” Shouyou asks with a laugh, and Osamu nods. 

“Place came cheap. I had to do a lot of repairs. A new door is my next project,” Osamu says, allowing Shouyou to step out with his bike. Thankfully Shouyou does not cycle off like the orange tornado he is. He turns, bike beside him, and looks expectantly to Osamu. Answering that undeniable call, Osamu’s hand goes behind Shouyou’s head to pull him up and in a little, as Osamu’s own face goes down to meet those sweet lips.

“This is fine, right, Shouyou…” Osamu whispers, not waiting to hear what Shouyou would have to say or stutter about. As he deepens the kiss, Osamu hears Shouyou’s hand grip the door frame. He leans in closer, the bell of the bike making a small sound as Shouyou’s one hand has less of a grip on it. Good, Osamu thinks, angling his head. He wants to make Shouyou want it more, to not be so nervous next time. To think of him all night. 

When they part, Osamu wishes Shouyou would change his mind and come back inside. What he’s facing instead are eyes that look away, a bit shy. But when Shouyou looks up to him, a wave of determination runs over his body, and he stares Osamu down despite being smaller in height. Osamu waits patiently, not wanting to tease him into bed. If he did, the mood could change, and maybe Shouyou wouldn’t want to hang out here again. That would be way worse.

Osamu also wants to hold the door frame. He was no stranger to his urges and following them. He wasn’t shy about sex. And yet, the way Shouyou looks at him, thinking how he’d bring this energy to sex...Osamu’s legs are weak. He knows he’s blushing, hard. Swallowing, he gives a single, lame nod. Whenever Shouyou is ready, he thinks. Osamu can only pray _he_ will be ready for Shouyou, when that time comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ask me why i'm writing so much pov in osamu...im actually trying to give hinata a lot more pov in the final third chapter ww


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled so much getting to the ero part and like, banging it out (ahahahahaa puns). But then when I bulldozed through it, I was super happy with the result!
> 
> I hope it will be an enjoyable read TT Sorry for the long wait! 
> 
> Also there's some RyuuKiyoTora if you squint! Didn't tag it so here's ya warning. And no, I do not romanticise yakuza/mafia much. Wtih Kiyoko I always have this gang-boss for the people image.

As spring rolls around, Shouyou wears t-shirts under his apron. It invites Miya— who has reminded him in the past couple of hangouts, again and again, to call him ‘Osamu’—to let his fingers roam over Shouyou’s skin. Right now, they trail over Shouyou’s collarbone. It has such an erotic sensation to it, and Shouyou shivers each time. He knows he could ask Miya to stop. He never does, never could. Not when he secretly craves the touch. 

Shouyou delivers a new tea to Miya’s doorstep. Miya is in the middle of inking someone, busy and not reacting to the bells tinkling when Shouyou enters. It’s after hours, and so Shouyou helps himself to Miya’s door key on the top of his desk. He closes the door and turns the sign to ‘Closed’. He sinks into a lounge chair Miya has for customers who have to wait. Shouyou fiddles with the tea, wondering how much longer Miya will work. 

At one point, Miya sits up, cleans off streaks of ink, and notices Shouyou. Without a word spoken, Miya holds up his hand, signalling 5 minutes. Shouyou smiles and nods. He hears Miya issuing instructions, as the customer looks at his new artwork in the mirror and loves it. Miya shows him out after getting paid fully. Shouyou stays seated, knowing Miya needs to stretch, remove mask and gloves, clean up a little. 

“Oh, what did my favourite little crow bring me today?” Miya asks, smiling down at where Shouyou holds the tea package. The ‘crow’ nickname arose after Shouyou told Miya which high school he attended. In return, knowing Miya’s high school name, Shouyou would think of Miya as a sly fox. He could never call him that though.

Explaining the new tea Sugawara put together, Shouyou follows Miya towards a chill-out room for people who weren’t getting inked but could accompany their friends. Miya turns off all the lights at the front, thanking Shouyou for closing most of it already. They boil tea, take out tea eggs and cups. Shouyou knows the back of the store as well as the front, having been visiting every night after closing, sometimes coming in early to see Miya. They hadn’t kissed again.

Drinking the tea and sitting side by side on Miya’s couch, Shouyou leans into his side. He cannot see Miya’s face, only hears the sound of surprise. Then, Miya’s arm goes around him. Shouyou cradles his cup close to his chin, taking tentative sips.

“The tea is good, right?” Shouyou asks, not actually thinking about the tea.

Miya murmurs back. “It is,” he says, and his nose brushes through Shouyou’s locks. They’ve become long lately, Shouyou thinks once a day about cutting them. But then Miya’s fingers would hold a lock of it in his fingers, his eyes lidded, his thoughts unknown to Shouyou. And the hair salon would be bypassed without a visit from him. When Miya inhales the scent of Shouyou’s hair, washed this morning, a shudder goes through him. Miya’s hands lift from his body, like it was a sign to stop.

Shouyou doesn’t want him to stop. Careful with their cups, Shouyou turns his head a bit to Miya. He’s flexible, but not this much. He turns on his side, head resting on Miya’s shoulder.

“Osamu-kun,” he says, interpreting Miya’s face, and tries again. “Osamu,” Shouyou says, receiving a smile this time. Miya—No, Osamu’s fingers, trail over Shouyou’s hair. He pushes strands away from Shouyou’s forehead. Even this touch has Shouyou’s mind aflame. He wants more of it. More of this.

More of him.

Shouyou closes his eyes, lifting his chin, making a pout of his lips. Osamu’s lips are there in a moment, but place themselves on his forehead. His skin burns. Osamu’s touch is warm, eager. He takes Shouyou’s tea and puts both of their cups on the table. At the clunk of them, Shouyou opens his eyes, watching Osamu’s hands take his. Shouyou looks down at the hands, at tattoo-covered fingers running over his. His skin is a bit more tan than Osamu’s, whose own skin is colourful in its own special way. The word ‘Brave’ is tattooed in English below Osamu’s thumb, the ‘e’s final stroke stretching towards Osamu’s wrist. Shouyou kisses the word, hoping he could get a bit of its magic in his heart.

Then Osamu dips his head low to catch Shouyou’s lips, one of his arms going around Shouyou’s shoulder to pull him close. There is nothing gentle about his tongue when he pries Shouyou’s lips open. Want unleashes as their breaths mingle and become heated. When Osamu retrieves it, Shouyou chases the tongue with his own. A spark thunders through his body, right down in his lap, when their tongues touch. A little touch at first, then sliding back and forth, over and under—heat rises to Shouyou’s face, and he keeps his eyes closed as Osamu moves. 

There’s not an inch lost between them when Osamu leans backwards and down, because he pulls Shouyou with him. Their mouths stay connected as Shouyou has to re-settle atop of Osamu. Lying horizontal should have Shouyou in a state, but he feels calm and warm in Osamu’s embrace. Safe and...loved. They never spoke about that, about feelings or what they were. Shouyou felt instinctively that they’ve slipped from animosity created by him, to dating made possible by Osamu and then this soft embrace of something that wasn't any more whole but just—more. Deeper. 

Osamu lets his hands drift under Shouyou’s shirt. One of them comes up to Shouyou’s hair, brushing it gently. The kiss feels like ‘more’ too, and Shouyou can hardly keep up in understanding the implications, or what he wants from this. Just...more of it all. More of Osamu, whatever he wants to do. That heat overruns Shouyou, who has to part for air. Osamu’s smile is sweet and warm against his cheek, a small ‘thank you’ whispering over Shouyou’s ear.

“Are you still making fun of me, Osamu?” Shouyou challenges him. It doesn’t seem as if Osamu would though. Osamu looks up to him, his eyes dark.

“I thought it was just common decency, like you showed me,” Osamu grins. His fingers trail down Shouyou’s jaw, tickle his throat, tap a beat onto his shoulder. Osamu can’t reach Shouyou’s collarbone with how their chests are glued together. 

It might be as good a time as any, Shouyou guesses. His face doesn’t feel hot, and an eerie calm sweeps over him. He will be brave.

“I’ve never been with someone like...this before,” Shouyou says, having been told for years that there was nothing wrong with him. Terushima had offered in high school, and even Tanaka had said he’d agree to practice with him. Shouyou could have had many opportunities. But even knowing them as well as he did, the feeling of want never arose. Not like this. Osamu blinks, his eyes blank for a second.

“Ah...well. That comes as a surprise, a little,” Osamu says. His fingers under Shouyou’s shirt draw soothing circles again, having stopped when Shouyou spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with it, of course. I will just have to be as slow and careful as I’ve been so far,” Osamu says, and Shouyou notices how his body doesn’t become nervous. He lies on top of such a handsome boy, whose intentions have been made very clear. Osamu’s fingers card deep into Shouyou’s hair, staying there. “If you...wanna continue with this or change your mind midway, please be clear about it, Shouyou.”

There’s no looking away from this, no hiding or being shy. Shouyou looks down into Osamu’s eyes, the strength of what he feels not backing down one bit. Osamu never tried anything when they watched TV in his apartment, and the sneaky little kisses on Shouyou’s neck when they were cooking together stayed as such, sneaky but innocent. Shouyou was terrified he couldn’t give enough when they were hanging out, but Osamu never pushed him, never asked him ‘when’. Even now, Osamu makes him realize that it is okay to not be so sure, or to hold back, or to not want it.

It. Shouyou isn’t afraid of it. Osamu feels right, all the way. Every part of him, from his tone to his fingers to his eyes, soothes Shouyou. Nothing pulls or pushes, apart from that connection between them, the mutual want. Shouyou feels it, their chests together, how very much he belongs here. How much Osamu wants to belong to him, too.

Shouyou’s eyes look away, around the room. The couch was cozy and he’s sat here during their lunch breaks often enough…

“Would you mind if we go to my place?” Shouyou asks, having never asked a person over like this before. Osamu’s smile is soft. Phrasing it like a question might not have been necessary, but Shouyou was raised right and couldn’t just go assuming stuff! Osamu’s fingers tense in Shouyou’s hair, pulling a strand.

“Course not.”

Shouyou considers that knowing smile, and the offer from before. He sighs out, “I don’t wanna chicken out or lead you on but...I don’t know if I am ready to go...all the way.”

“That’s fine. That’s why I said that stuff earlier. If you have any doubts or don’t wanna do anything, you can always change your mind. I know how to take care of myself,” Osamu says, his fingers running over Shouyou’s head. “I want you to feel good too. I would love to know what you like, and explore for hours on end. It’s up to you, always.”

The words become knowledge forged in iron and trust. Shouyou smiles back, leaning his head down for a final last soft kiss on the couch. He won’t lose his virginity here. Not tonight. But they could do other stuff. He believes Osamu when he says he’ll explore that with him, together.

Outside of the shop, Shouyou takes his bike. The two of them walk side by side, talking about their day. The walk is what Shouyou needs to let the heat in his body cool off, and Osamu indulges him by listening. When they come to a slope down, Shouyou gets on his bike, and thumbs towards the backseat for Osamu to sit on. His eyes are round, but soon he settles in the wire backseat. His arms go around Shouyou’s middle, and Osamu’s chin drops down to the shoulder with ease.

“Take me away, crow-child,” Osamu says, and Shouyou ignores the thunder strikes rushing between his stomach and private parts. Grin wobbly, he kicks off, and soon they fly down the slope and closer to where Shouyou lives.

The smell of the woods is strong near Shouyou’s dwelling. Osamu has been here before, but he must feel different about stepping in this time. Shouyou does, at least, and he feels a bit awkward asking Osamu if he wants something to drink. With glasses of water in their hands, Shouyou leads the way to his bedroom, suddenly nervous about it all. Osamu’s hand runs down his back, into the back-pocket of Shouyou’s light blue jeans. He appears as unbothered as ever. 

Shouyou hopes that he might change that. The challenge of it alone makes him less flustered, and wishing to be more bold. They enter his bedroom, put the glasses aside. Osamu drapes himself all over Shouyou, like before on the bike. Tension and intent meld together in a deep kiss, Osamu hungrier than before. Panting, Shouyou looks up, his pulse running wild seeing Osamu’s half-lidded eyes stare down at him. Their bodies push together, and standing, staggering towards the bed, Shouyou feels Osamu’s hardness brush his stomach.

Inhaling deeply, Shouyou turns them around, making Osamu fall backwards on the bed as the soft of his knees collide with the edge of it. Osamu looks surprised for a mere second, but his hands are on Shouyou’s and he pulls him on top. If he wants revenge, he doesn’t look it. Shouyou breathes in as his knees slide over his mattress, straddling Osamu. Their kiss resumes, slower but more sensual.

The hands Shouyou places on Osamu’s shoulder press down without massaging them, nor pushing them away. When Shouyou parts from Osamu’s lips, he keeps the touch, as it keeps him stable.

“Can you lie down again?” Shouyou asks, having felt more at ease when sitting on top. The thought of Osamu hovering over him comes at night, like a horny ghost haunting his sleep, turning them into sexual fantasies. Complying, Osamu makes to resettle his body completely on the bed, still balancing Shouyou on top. Before his head crashes onto the pillow, Shouyou’s fingers rush to the hem of his shirt, wanting to pull it off. He should have done so first. Now he must plead... 

“I want to see you with all your tattoos...and your piercings.”

Osamu’s eyes glint in the dark. Lust displays itself without needing to hide. Shouyou’s words keep Osamu’s shoulders and upper back suspended in air, and he leans back off to allow Shouyou’s hands to undress him. Osamu’s teeth bite Shouyou’s earlobe. 

“Bottoms too?”

The implications make Shouyou blush, but he’s not embarrassed when he nods. They move around so that Osamu can lie down at last in skin-tight grey and wine-red striped boxer-shorts. Shouyou looks at the bulge, forces his eyes up before he stares. Osamu grins.

“You can look. And touch, if you want,” Osamu says, his fingers tickling Shouyou’s palms. He doesn’t make him though. Shouyou gulps.

“No, yes! Eh, I’m good!” He says, and lets his hand run up Osamu’s sides. He’s not ticklish. Osamu’s hands rid Shouyou of his shirt, after hesitating at the hem. When he receives Shouyou’s non-verbal consent, the shirt flies off. Osamu mirrors Shouyou’s hand movement, to Shouyou’s despair—he is ticklish—and the laughs fill the once silent room. The palpable lust mingles with the shrieks of laughter, Osamu’s grin an underlying tone. He doesn’t torture Shouyou too much, who finds himself far more relaxed and at ease than before.

Osamu puts his hands behind his head, bent elbows pointing out. Shouyou wanted to look at him, and that’s the view he’s getting. Osamu’s tattoos are numerous and each beautiful. With hardship and a shuddering breath, Shouyou sits his ass—still trapped in his jeans—down on Osamu’s bulge, meeting it with his own semi-hardness. For a second, they squirm against each other, and Shouyou has to shut his eyes at how inviting it feels.

The steel glinting in the dark is as breathtaking as Osamu’s slate eyes. Shouyou tears his eyes away from the eyes, to keep looking at the ink on Osamu’s chest, and the nipple piercings. They’re barbells, simple round balls on either side. Shouyou’s mouth becomes dry—he knew from pictures how Osamu looked under his clothes. This is the first time he sees it all, and is more than allowed to touch. Not intending a useless tickle attempt, Shouyou’s fingers trace the foxes up to a poem on Osamu’s biceps. Above his heart are more words in kanji—’we don’t need memories’. Shouyou stares down, wondering what it means. His fingers trail part of the hiragana.

“It’s about living in the moment, and having no need for memories just for the sake of having them. I want to look forward, always, and do things with the intention to win and not just ‘do my best’,” Osamu says, his words not making much sense to Shouyou. He gets it, sorta, half of it. Osamu’s finger rakes over Shouyou’s thigh, the sound of a fingernail against jeans so loud in his ears. Suddenly, two hands run over Shouyou’s ass, right below. Osamu never pushes or pulls, not even now. His arms are long enough to reach, his muscles flexing as he does.

“You cool there? Or should I say hot… If you wanna move, do it. I can handle your weight on my stomach.”

Shouyou doesn’t have to consider it. “Yes, I mean! No, I am fine where I am now. More than fine,” Shouyou says, adding weight and belief to his tone. It takes Osamu by surprise, who then licks his lips.

“Fuck, okay, that’s good,” he says, and Shouyou watches as Osamu flexes his stomach hard, and reaches up to sit and meet Shouyou’s lips again. Eyes closed this time, Shouyou hums as Osamu’s fingers fumble with his jeans, opening them up. There’s a hint of nervousness between them, but Shouyou kisses it all away. He wants this, 100% everything that Osamu has to offer, and what Shouyou can over in return. He moves his legs, knees, makes sure not to get tangled up or fall. Osamu keeps him steady, helping to remove Shouyou’s jeans.

As soon as they’re gone, Shouyou sinks down again, deeper into this hot embrace. He moves this time, his body telling him to—it feels so good and forbidden...his penis reacts right away, as he rubs himself over Osamu’s. Osamu’s fingers run under Shouyou’s briefs, spreading him the most minor amount. Their heads angle as the kiss intensifies, and Shouyou exhales loudly through his nose. He moves his hips forward and back, loving the sound Osamu makes as their make-out becomes sloppy and wet. Shouyou’s hands run up the undercut, into the dyed hair. Osamu’s hands are everywhere, never knowing where to stay, wanting to be everywhere at once.

Then Osamu parts from him, to let that hungry mouth run wild over Shouyou’s throat. 

“I need you to be vocal, alright? No need to be loud or drown me in compliments...although I’d like that too,” Osamu drawls, his teeth nibbling Shouyou’s jaw. “But Shouyou, I need you to tell me what feels good for you, what doesn’t. If it doesn’t feel right, tell me. Tell me whatever you want, and I’ll do it,” he says with his Kansai-accent present in every word. Shouyou loves it. 

Eyes still closed, Shouyou leans his head back, moaning out loud as the tongue trails over the sides of his throat, towards the shoulder. The teeth are never too hard and just right… Osamu’s knuckles push down Shouyou’s underwear, freeing his ass from the clothing, running it all the way down. Vocal. Vocal…

“Yes,” he breathes out, his hips crashing forward.

“Have you ever played with yourself?” Osamu asks, his breath hot against Shouyou’s skin. Shouyou nods, remembers to be vocal and works his mouth and throat into answering.

“I...have...But I don’t want to do it by myself now…” He wants nothing more than for Osamu to do it instead. “T-there is lube in the drawer,” Shouyou breathes out, looking at his nightstand. Lightning quick, Osamu’s fingers return, lubed up and ready to go.

But his forehead first bumps into Shouyou’s chin, making him look down. Osamu’s slightly out of breath, his eyes wide. When he looks up, Shouyou understands without needing to hear Osamu say it, who appears incapable of words right now. Looking at each other, Shouyou widens his knees out further, and Osamu’s fingers gently tease him. Osamu’s eyes are wide still, their hunger on display, unashamed and unmatched by anything Shouyou has ever seen. He leans forward, lips leaving a tiny kiss on Osamu’s nose, then his thick brows. The finger goes inside without a hitch, apart from the sound Shouyou makes when Osamu is knuckle-deep inside of him, not moving.

Swallowing, Shouyou keeps his eyes open, not hiding anything. He nods, and Osamu starts to finger him at a slow pace. His own hands stay in Osamu’s hair, at his neck. Maybe Osamu needs to be steadied too. When his finger curves, Shouyou has to close his eyes, and he bites his bottom lip. It feels so good that it compels him to tell Osamu, to keep going, to do more… _’I need you to be vocal, alright?’_

“Go faster,” Shouyou breathes out, and Osamu’s finger speeds it up, soon adding another one. Shouyou doesn’t see and only hears the rustle of fabric, fingers running over the length of his hidden away penis. Osamu’s two fingers go so deep that Shouyou cries out, and then their cocks rub together, through the underwear. Shouyou’s eyes flash open, and his mouth becomes slack.

“Osamu,” he moans out the name, unable to add anything else. Grinning, Osamu kisses the bitten bottom lip, his teeth getting their own time to play with it. He nibbles Shouyou’s lips as a third finger enters, the speed steady and exactly what Shouyou needs.

His breathing becomes faster and faster. Shouyou wants to do something, too. He starts to speak, loses it, then places his hands on Osamu; one on his stomach, one going into Osamu’s boxershorts, round his dick. He looks at Osamu, looks down between them. His hips move, so that Shouyou’s penis rubs up and down Osamu’s while they hold each other. But Shouyou has two hands. And he wants Osamu’s second elsewhere. He tries again to speak, foreheads together, slick with sweat.

“Put your other hand behind me as well…” Shouyou says, feeling insane and proud for even asking. Osamu grins, his hand letting go of Shouyou’s penis, and comes to squeeze Shouyou’s ass-cheek. Before Shouyou can say what he wants, they have to move their limbs, to remove their underwear. It never takes the heat out of this room. Completely naked, Shouyou straddles Osamu’s lap again, looking down at a tattoo Osamu has on his hip. It was previously covered by the shorts.

Shouyou stares. The tattoo is small, and he saw it as they were undressing just now. A black bird graces Osamu’s skin.

“Sorry...I should have asked if you were okay with it first…”

“No...I mean yes! It’s….fine…” Shouyou breathes out, looking at the crow. Slowly, Shouyou continues like before, his tongue sliding between Osamu’s nervous lips. “It’s more than fine,” he says between kisses. “It’s perfect.”

Osamu kisses him back, soon leading his fingers one by one back inside Shouyou’s waiting entrance. Shouyou takes care of them both in the middle, frotting as well as using his hands to pump their cocks in tandem. Osamu’s lips capture Shouyou’s bottom one, slow in their venture. Shouyou exhales. 

“I want you to...s-spread me a little...when you finger me…” Shouyou says, stammering just at the lewd part of his request. Unable to believe he can be so forward with what he wants. But Osamu needs him to be vocal, to tell him what he wants. There shouldn’t be any shame. Feeling Osamu’s grin against his skin, that unneeded little feeling dissipates completely, leaving only room for what they want, together, of each other. Osamu spreads one ass-cheek, curving his fingers in deeper. As sounds of pure ecstasy erupt from Shouyou’s mouth, Osamu’s body becomes more still against his, the heat between them building.

It takes no time at all to come like this. Osamu’s palms frame Shouyou’s jawline. The hand that’s been giving him so much pleasure has the fingers hovering just away from Shouyou’s face. Shouyou’s eyes feel heavy, his breathing slowing down while his heart rate is still on a high. Osamu’s smile widens, hazy and perfect, soft gasps of laugh coming from him. Like _he’s_ the one that cannot believe what they just did. With his own hands dirty with their come, Shouyou can’t touch him back, flails a bit around with his sticky hands. Osamu laughs.

“Tissues?”

“Tissues! I got them somewhere,” Shouyou says, looking frantically around and then slides off awkwardly.

His heart beats faster than any rollercoaster ride could have driven him. Hinata feels odd all over, exhilaration coursing through him. With his feet tingling, a bit numb, he walks to get the tissues. When he looks back, Osamu smiles up to the ceiling. Satisfaction written all over his face. Shouyou, for once, doesn’t marvel at the beauty of Osamu, or his tattoos, or how incredible he is. The only thing in Shouyou’s mind is that he managed to get Osamu to make that face.

And how addicting it could be, wanting to see it over and over again. 

*

*

The calligraphy pen hovers over the paper. Osamu stares out of his window, not continuing with one of the jobs he should be finishing today. His client is waiting, actually awaiting several handwritten designs by Osamu’s hand. He has come as far as writing 3 different styled ‘Unbreakable’s in English, using the calligraphy fountain pen. Thicker strokes, thinner ones, or a combination of both. His mind cannot concentrate whatsoever.

Ever since that first exploration, Shouyou had wanted to try out more and more. He still blushed enough to put the strawberry fields outside town to shame. Yet, his determination and willpower overwon. Each time his hands travelled to new nooks and crannies on Osamu’s body, Shouyou displayed a victorious grin. And every time they undress a little or stroke each other through their clothes, it’s at Shouyou’s home, when no one else is there. When only the rustling leaves and knocking tree branches at the window are their witnesses.

Yesterday, Osamu almost got as far as tasting Shouyou. Sadly, his head was stopped by the hard underside of Shouyou’s palm, not allowing him to dip his head down, to let his lips know Shouyou as intimately as he could, physically. Shouyou’s ears would have blown steam if they were in a manga, but instead those wobbly lips had stammered and stuttered up an incomprehensible storm. Osamu didn’t need words to understand; if the hand held him back, it was a good as a No as any verbal indication. He had backed off, kissed Shouyou instead. Told him it was fine and put a safe blanket over Shouyou’s half-naked lower body.

Then he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to take care of his own hardness.

Sitting in his parlour, his calligraphy pen set aside as no work was to be done, Osamu put his face in his hands. Shouyou was driving him wild, and it didn’t matter if they came closer and closer to having sex, or took several steps back and did nothing at all. Osamu’s heart thumps against his chest, and he blows out a breath. Damn, he was so taken in by this guy…

The entrance bells tinkle their tune, but Osamu doesn’t look up. He hears Shouyou’s voice, hesitant from the doorway. 

“Uh, bad time?”

“No…” Osamu mutters into his hands. “Come in, welcome all,” he says, looking up to find that Shouyou actually did bring friends today. Blinking, straightening his back and shoulders, Osamu sits up as he looks up to the three older brother types from the market. Shouyou shuffles in, looking more nervous than Osamu has ever seen him.

The boys part for a beautiful looking woman. She’s dressed in a deep black suit, wearing a white dress shirt to show off a fitting black tie. Her glasses and mole would have done things to Osamu if he wasn’t already in a relationship, deeply in love. Thinking of his manners, he wants to say hello to this timeless beauty, only to be cut short by the unsheathing of a katana. The point of which comes close to his mouth.

“Is this him, Hinata-kun?” The woman says, her eyes staring down Osamu into silent submission. He was sure that he’d met everyone who was protective of Shouyou. However, this must be the final boss.

“K-Kiyoko-san!” Shouyou says, his hands up, his body dangerously close to the blade. “Please put that down, I thought you wanted to show that to Osamu differently!” Shouyou stands between Osamu and the small crowd within the parlour, his voice high and aghast at this display. Somehow, Osamu is deadly calm.

The blade doesn't lower for 5 seconds. Then the woman named Kiyoko sighs, and sheathes her blade. Shouyou sighs louder, stepping aside, his hands towards her.

“This is Kiyoko-san. She’s eh,” Shouyou hesitates. He scratches a fingernail over his cheek, chasing a dimple as he laughs nervously. Osamu doesn’t think he needs an introduction, guessing at Shouyou’s reluctant non-explanation for who this person might be. He doesn’t have to trouble himself much longer, as the mohawk-wearing Yamamoto stomps a foot forward, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders and head bowing large and menacingly. 

“This is Shimizu Kiyoko, leader of the Crows gang. You better show respect to her, Kansai punk!”

Behind Kiyoko, Terushima sticks out his tongue, a smile on his face. Tanaka stands on the other side behind Yamamoto, his arms crossing over his chest. Osamu doesn’t understand how Shouyou ever thought Osamu was yakuza, when these guys are his friends and protectors.

Kiyoko, with a wave of her hand, the air shift catching Yamamoto’s neck, beckons him to step back. She then shows her katana completely to Osamu, from beginning to end, as she holds it up to her chest. Her eyes remain focused on Osamu the entire time. They’re dark indigo blue in colour, and wouldn’t suffer insolence. Osamu hasn’t said a thing yet, not wanting to worsen the situation or make Shouyou worry. Shouyou, who’s at his side.

“Do you have any qualms with tattooing members of my clan?” Kiyoko asks, her voice ice and silk, mixing together in a hardness only a woman could have. Osamu shakes his head.

“I don’t want any trouble, Kiyoko-san,” he says at last, and Shouyou stammers once more. His ability to speak suffers whenever he’s nervous. Turns out he doesn’t have to be, as Kiyoko smiles, her 3 pets following suit with snorts of their own. Osamu can’t help but think of the movie villain, the lion Scar, and his three hyenas. Only this Scar is hundred times more prettier, and perhaps more lethal.

“Good. I do apologize if these guys gave you trouble on the market the other day. I hadn’t exactly ordered them to sniff around, but I must have missed telling them to stay away also.” Even though the words have a soothing and kind tone, the glint in Kiyoko’s eyes shows that she actually doesn’t care that much. Or at least, that any kind of intimidation executed wasn’t going to be punished. “Anyway, I showed you my blade because I want it tattooed on them, and on me. Oh, and just a side note. As long as you’re with Hinata, your parlour is under my protection—”

“ _Kiyoko-san_ ,” Shouyou gasps, trying to stop her from saying anything else. Osamu feels cold sweat run over his neck. The three guys he could handle. The black suits following him around back then had done nothing to him. That bartender at Saeko’s bar, or Shouyou’s co-workers were harmless. Yet this woman had Osamu count all his blessings that he’s not fallen out of her favour in any way.

“Of course, his relationship with you is no business with mine, as long as you’re happy. I am not here to make idle threats, or put my nose into a friend’s love life. Hinata has been nothing but excited for some time, so I see it as a good sign. Anyway, the designs…” Kiyoko says, as Terushima hands her a file folder. “I am not good at drawing anything, so I brought my blade here. I hope you don’t mind,” Kiyoko says, smiling in a way that Osamu understands completely. That katana pointing at his nose was a show of power like no other. Still, with Shouyou by his side trying to diffuse the situation, Osamu feels calm again.

He offers Kiyoko and the others a place to sit. Kiyoko does, but the rest remain standing. Osamu looks up to them, then to Shouyou.

“These are the people who warned you about guys like me?” He asks, incredulous. Shouyou blushes and pouts, sitting close to him. Osamu peers over the drawings; they’re really bad, but obviously he likes his life and doesn’t make a comment on it. He listens to Kiyoko’s ideas, to where each individual wants the blade placed. Osamu nods to himself. He can still work with this.

Kiyoko notices his calligraphy, and commands Tanaka to bring it to her.

“Very stylish. Can you do Japanese calligraphy as well?” Kiyoko asks, and Osamu nods. “Good. I need two names then, just for me, added beside the katana tattoo.” Kiyoko’s smile is private, and Osamu can understand from the grin falling off two of the guys behind her, whose names that might be. It goes unmentioned, and Osamu nods.

From what he can remember, Shouyou had linked three names to these three guys. One was a girl called Hana or something. Then there was Daichi and Kuroo. Uncertain what it all means, he staves off his curiosity. Kiyoko might pry into his life a little, but he won’t fall for the trap and do the same. Instead, he tells Kiyoko, whose last name he finds out is Shimizu, when he can have the designs ready.

“Good, please call this number when they are. We will discuss more details later. Payment will be made in full as soon as the designs are to my liking. They remain intellectual property to you, of course. Everyone’s pictures can be taken and put on your Instagram, as Hinata showed it to me, but I cannot have my body on another man’s page. My special someones can be a little...aggressive about that,” Kiyoko smiles, and Osamu looks away, a bit uncomfortable. There so much more being said, and the energy in the room changes.

He’s glad when Kiyoko gets up and takes up her katana, moving towards the door. Yamamoto holds it open for her, letting the bells sound.

“Good afternoon, Miya-kun. And see you around, Hinata-kun.”

When the group walks out and out of sight, Osamu sinks in his chair. Right away, Shouyou’s arms drape over his shoulders. The orange hair rubs into Osamu’s grey-coloured strands, ruffling it into different directions.

“I am soooo sorry! Kiyoko-san said she wanted a new tattoo from a new artist, and I somehow ended up telling her about you and your page. Of course she knew about you because Tanaka-san told her, but then she asked me all these questions. Like, she knew we were a couple I guess!? But she wanted to come over here, then took her sword. And she kept telling me it's only to show it off for the tattoo idea but I didn’t know she’d threaten you like that!” Shouyou talks a mile a minute, his head never leaving Osamu’s. Osamu puts a hand over the orange mop, stroking it. It was fine, he thinks. People with power like to display it.

“You have interesting friends, Shouyou…” Given that the mob just left his premises, he cranes his neck to look up at Hinata. “Did she give you the baseball bat?”

Shouyou shakes his head, letting Osamu know it was a present from Tanaka.

“I will make it up to you!” Shouyou says, jumping to Osamu’s side, who was still sitting down. Osamu waves it off. There was no need for that. But Shouyou won’t hear of his protest, and rushes off, out of sight into the other direction, back towards his workplace.

So much for daydreams, flashbacks, and a possible lunch date....

Osamu sets aside what just happened and gets back to work. He cannot keep the yakuza waiting, after all. He gets back to his calligraphy, first the English variations of ‘Unbreakable’, then testing out Japanese calligraphy, from top to bottom. The artwork for the katakana he leaves for last. No body modifications were planned for today, and Osamu is busy until closing time with drawing.

When he puts his tools down and goes to the door to switch his neon sign to ‘Closed’, he watches Shouyou bike over to the front. Osamu opens the door, his hand on his neck as small pains make themselves noticeable there.

“Hey, you,” Osamu says, watching Shouyou jump off his bike and towards him. His bag bounces to the front, looking heavier than before. He’s out of breath.

“I will be staying over at your place, tonight!” Shouyou says, eyes wild and feverish, smile wide, and cheeks red from whatever bicycle race he just committed himself to. Osamu guesses that the bag is full of Shouyou’s stuff. He nods in agreement, then closes up behind him. Somehow, he thinks this stay over at his place, spending an entire night together, will go differently. And he couldn’t forget how Shouyou had vowed to make it up to him.

*

*

Arriving at his place, Osamu doesn’t open the door immediately. He looks at Shouyou, who stares straight ahead, waiting for the door to open.

“Listen. What other people do is not something you have to take responsibility for.”

Shouyou looks up, and a chill runs down Osamu’s spine. There’s no backing off from this, whatever ‘this’ might entail. Seeing that Shouyou’s mind won’t be changed from what it has been set on, Osamu opens the door, pressing his shoulder against it.

He leaves his shoes at the entrance, pads his socked feet inside, notices that behind him there is no sound of following feet stepping inside. Rubbing his neck as if a one-handed massage is going to do anything for him, Osamu looks behind him. “Shouyou, are you coming—”

A whirlwind heads right for him. Osamu barely has time to turn around completely and his hands lift up a little. Shouyou doesn’t just jump him—he tackles him against the couch, and over it. Somehow, Osamu’s reaction time allows him to hook the heel of his foot over the sofa, to make sure they don’t fall off or hurt themselves. Shouyou, his mad boyfriend, jumps off him, as if god gave him invisible wings. He gasps.

“My bag!” He says, stomping back towards the entrance. Osamu leans up on his elbows, finding his door closed, Shouyou’s bike inside the hallway, and Shouyou himself bending over his bag, searching manically.

“Shouyou, what’s gotten into you?” Osamu says, only to find the last word dying on his lips. Shouyou, his mad, beautiful, lovely boyfriend, has his price in his hands. His cheeks aren’t showing even a hint of pink.

He holds up a bottle of lubrication, and a pack of condoms.

Osamu, sitting on his couch, doesn’t know if his face should fall into his hands to sigh, or to hide his laughter. Sitting beside him, proudly holding the small packages in his hands, Shouyou has finally gotten embarrassed about his own brave announcement.

_’Let’s have sex’_ , he’d said a moment ago, putting Osamu’s insides into a frenzy of confusion, laughter, and not believing who he’s fallen in love with. Pressing his mouth into his palm, he chances a glance at Shouyou. Surprised by his own determination, or perhaps awaiting Osamu’s teasing, Shouyou’s eyes shift around, never looking directly at Osamu. It makes Osamu a little nervous too; why was Shouyou behaving like this..? Perhaps because he was a virgin. Osamu hopes it wasn’t because of himself. Even so, it would be his duty to bring pleasure to Shouyou, to not just hold his hand and endure, but also make sure he is happy with Osamu.

Hand reaching out, Osamu’s fingers thread through the thick ginger hair, making Shouyou become still. Leaning forward, Osamu swallows his own fears; hesitant touches and not being sure of himself wouldn’t do. They start kissing, with Shouyou’s own shyness fading. Knowing what Shouyou was capable of and likes so far, Osamu uses the knowledge. He sits back onto the sofa, urging Shouyou to sit on his lap. Letting him sit on top would assure both of them who was in charge here, who was calling the shots.

Osamu’s hands run down Shouyou’s back, towards his ass, hinting to move. Shouyou does, slower than ever before when they’ve sat like this. As soon as both of them fall into the mood and pace of something so known and wanted, Osamu’s hands circle forward, opening up first Shouyou’s button and zipper, then his own. Shouyou’s kiss comes to a halt, his eyes stay closed. Osamu continues, nibbles on gently, and Shouyou’s hands press into Osamu’s shoulders. At the first sign of discomfort, Osamu would switch gears. There’s no need for it now, though, as Shouyou’s ass drives into Osamu’s lap, want and need rising in both of them.

“Don’t think about anything, okay? Head empty, body go. Whatever feels good for you, or what you envision to be good for us.” Osamu whispers, hot breath and wet lips setting Hinata’s entire face on fire. Osamu’s kisses tickle down his jaw, the side of his neck, towards his shoulders. “Let go of everything and—trust me. I’ll take care of you, Shouyou.” 

Pulling away pants, kicking his own off, Osamu carefully takes their dicks into his hands, not touching Shouyou elsewhere. They have done this before as well, and so he knows what can help ease Shouyou into doing other things. Putting their cocks together, Osamu strokes Shouyou’s, loving how his boyfriend’s hips move forward to rub on his hardness.

Noticing Shouyou peeking downwards, Osamu smiles. He kisses the hot cheek, using his free hand to squeeze Shouyou’s ass. “Don’t be afraid. I’m only this big because of you and your efforts,” Osamu whispers, his thumb rubbing over the top of Shouyou’s penis. He’s so warm and pure, so eager… Kissing Shouyou’s neck, Osamu’s lip close around the skin, sucking and nibbling at it. One of Shouyou’s hands drops away from Osamu’s shoulder, to place itself on his rib cage. Like Osamu needs to be soothed right now…

Maybe he does, a little. He doesn’t want to hurt Shouyou after all.

Mouth parting from his neck with a wet sound, Osamu looks at the soon-to-be-hickey, then up to Shouyou’s eyes. They’re glossed over with need, and Osamu’s heart skips a beat. He inhales deeply, and their lips meet again, more frantic. Feeling the mood for it, Osamu eases Shouyou back to lie down on the sofa, as careful as he can. He settles with Shouyou’s legs resting against his shoulders, marvelling at how flexible Shouyou is. Wanton, Osamu kisses the other side of the neck. He wants the co-workers, punks, and anyone else who cares to know that Shouyou is his. Wants to be his.

“A-are we going to...do it here..?” Shouyou asks, but Osamu can’t shake his head as his teeth are digging into Shouyou’s shoulder right now. He kisses instead over the collar bone, up the throat, hungry for all there is to taste.

“Foreplay first, Shouyou,” Osamu whispers hotly on Shouyou’s chin, then down his cheeks, towards the ear. “What do you want me to do...hm? What do _you_ want to do?” Osamu asks, driving his hips down, making sure to keep holding onto Shouyou’s dick lightly, and just rubbing his own length over Shouyou’s. The gasps that he earns are music to his ears, seducing him more and more. He puts his free hand under Shouyou’s back, fingers curling up and over the just bitten shoulder. Osamu’s forehead slumps down on the other side, as he breathes out hard as their cocks slide up and over each other.

Shouyou, remembering half a minute later to answer, is near breathless already. “I...Can I touch you..?”

Osamu laughs. “Obviously. What kind of question is that even?” He hovers up, looking down where his cock lays still over Shouyou’s, for the moment. Shouyou blushes when Osamu looks back at him.

“No harm in looking, mhn? If you don’t mind me watching…” And he watches as Shouyou’s hand goes down and touches him, something he hasn’t done before. A bit awkward, Shouyou flicks his wrist up and down. Silence reigns between them, until Osamu has to close his eyes and groan out. “That feels so good…”

His hunger becomes unbearable now. Osamu can’t allow himself to fall over the edge already, not if he needs to hit the brakes for Shouyou. It didn’t matter who had this clever idea, or who brought the goods. If Shouyou changes his mind, Osamu needs to control himself and heed the wishes of his lover. So he keeps what he wants to do to himself, and busies his mouth by attacking Shouyou's nipples with his tongue. Shouyou’s soft moans are worth being recorded, but hearing them right now sends Osamu’s head reeling.

Below him, Shouyou’s feet dip into the couch. As soon as Osamu feels the lithe body beneath him wanting to shift up, he brings his own knees under Shouyou for support. Shouyou’s ass runs up and against Osamu’s thigh. The little whirlwind grinds himself there, as his entire ass is in the air, head and shoulders sinking deeper into the couch. Osamu closes his mouth over one nipple, his tongue circling it faster and faster. Shouyou meets it with his hand movements, pumping Osamu’s cock so fast he thinks he might come already. He lets one arm stay under Shouyou to hold his shoulder from below, while his other hand goes down. He finds the lube first, opens it with his thumb, squeezes it over his hand in haste. Then he brings his fingers inside of Shouyou, two at a time. The pace in sync with Shouyou’s hand on his dick, Osamu’s teeth nibble at the nipple in his mouth, enjoying every second of this.

He comes first, and all over Shouyou’s stomach. He should have opened a condom too...Now he has to find tissues, clean up, his face warm. Unable to look at Shouyou, Osamu doesn’t until his hands—one clean, one sticky—frame his face. It’s what he’s done to Shouyou so often now, and yet it surprises Osamu. Shouyou looks up, all determination, no fear. All want, and nothing else.

“Can we bring out your futon?”

His world should turn upside down, but Osamu has never felt as steady as this, as one with himself. He smiles.

“Of course, Shouyou,” he dips in for a kiss, angling his head because he likes to kiss deeply. Shouyou’s arms go around his neck, and Osamu leads the shorter legs to his back. It’s easy afterwards; Osamu gets up and carries Shouyou to his bedroom, grabbing the lube and the condoms from where they were tossed aside. Shouyou’s mouth is on his neck, kissing his tattoo there. A thrill runs through Osamu’s heart—he throws the condoms and lube on the floor, slides open a door, pulls out a futon, bedding, a pillow. Shouyou’s arms and legs ensure his hold, and Osamu uses both hands to ready the futon.

He brings Shouyou down carefully, returning to kiss him, distract him. His fingers play around between them, meeting one of Shouyou’s hands as they give each other handjobs. Shouyou is warm beneath him, not shivering once. Osamu’s resolve never fades, his fingers prepared to ease into Shouyou. Osamu watches as his eyes close, mouth open. His cheeks flush watching Shouyou change hues. Shouyou’s legs widen, allowing Osamu to fall perfectly between them.

When his three fingers dive in deep, Shouyou cries out; all pleasure, his chest arching up. Osamu’s mouth doesn’t hesitate a second, licking the nipples. More distraction. He doesn’t forget the condom, quickly putting one on. One of Osamu’s clean hands takes Shouyou’s, presses it into the futon. Knees snaking up, Osamu lines his cock up with Shouyou’s entrance, who hasn’t opened his eyes. Leaning down, kissing the exposed neck, Osamu’s tongue licks circles as he enters. Slow and always able to retreat if and when it’s demanded.

Shouyou’s mouth opens wider, his moan the only sound in the room. And it’s Osamu who starts to shiver, who starts to fall apart as he sinks deeper into a heat that rivals the sun. His fingers curl tighter over Shouyou’s, when he’s not even fully inside. He goes out, in deeper, each and every time listening to Shouyou’s breathing, his soft moans. His eyes stay closed, while Osamu cannot stop staring at that beautiful face.

Before upping the pace, Osamu wipes his lubed fingers off his futon. He touches Shouyou’s face, who turns towards the palm. Smiling, Shouyou’s eyes open at last. He looks smug.

“You’re nervous,” he says, and Osamu sees no need to deny it. He nods once, then lets his hips speak as he rushes into that warmth. Shouyou’s hands run over his back, his shoulder blades. Wanting to be as close as possible, and hearing the request coming from the fingers roaming his back, Osamu presses his body close onto Shouyou. He hides his face in the bright hair, inhaling the scent.

Being so close also means Shouyou’s hot breath ghosts over Osamu’s ear. Closing his eyes, Osamu rams himself in each time, loving the way Shouyou’s moan stretches out into higher pitches at the end. The whimpering is so cute that Osamu smiles at it, only to have his cock squeezed between Shouyou’s ass when the latter notices. Kissing the side of Shouyou’s face, who turns his head to allow for more accessibility, Osamu lets his tongue lick wildly around Shouyou’s earlobe. He’d look so good with a piercing too…

Just as the thought enters his mind, he feels Shouyou’s hand shifting. One stays at his back. The other goes around to the front, and Osamu’s mind freezes a little when Shouyou plays with his nipple; he doesn’t upset the piercing so much, and yet the sensitive touch has Osamu slow down his pace until he’s not moving at all.

“S-sorry?” Shouyou says, retreating his hand. Osamu shakes his head, then laughs. He kisses Shouyou, brings his arms around his back this time to lift up him. They change position, Osamu wanting nothing more than for Shouyou to ride him, to move on him, to do anything he wants. A little more shy again, Shouyou’s blush reaches down his neck, covers his ears. Sitting back on his haunches, Osamu’s hands squeeze Shouyou’s ass a little, guiding him to move on his own.

With hands on Osamu’s shoulders, Shouyou slowly does. He cannot look at Osamu though, who has just the right idea. He presses Shouyou’s head close to his chest, only letting his fingertips use a bit of force to bring Shouyou’s head further down. Getting the drift, Shouyou’s tongue comes out to play, and to Osamu’s eternal happiness, closes his mouth around his nipple. Shouyou licks all around it, then over. Osamu sees stars, his vision white when he closes his eyes. His hips barely move, and Shouyou, with more confidence, rides his cock—Osamu makes sure Shouyou won’t fall off, keeping one hand on his cute little butt.

Shouyou, hearing Osamu’s pleasure trickling out through gritted teeth, gets a taste for it. His mouth moves over the other nipple, to repeat playing around and driving Osamu’s mind wild into a frenzy. Needing to lie down, Osamu shifts again, stretching his legs out under Shouyou, who keeps straddling his lap with those strong thighs of his. Shouyou’s deep blush hasn’t seeped out yet, so Osamu takes his hand, links their fingers. Shouyou moves his hips again—once he closes his eyes and lets himself go fully, he’s unstoppable.

Osamu watches, not wanting to miss a thing. Shouyou’s jaw goes slack, the moans grow louder. Their hands hover in the air, never letting go of each other. Osamu is close, noticing how his once-virgin boyfriend seems to have more stamina than him in this regard. Osamu doesn’t mind, not when Shouyou learns how to look down on him, make his mind melt like butter in the sun. It’s too erotic to bear, the way Shouyou’s face is flushed, his lips open, his eyes lidded, and his confidence growing as he gains the upper hand. Osamu lets him have it—the joy within erupts in a blind haze. He groans out deeply, head pressing down into the futon. He brings his hips up a little, wanting to ride it out as long as he can.

When Osamu’s soul slams into the futon, Shouyou’s right there to kiss him. Holding him close, Osamu uses his hands, jerking Shouyou off until he comes too, with Osamu still buried deep inside him. His half-hard cock doesn’t come out until Shouyou comes, all over him. The high pitch of his moans brings Osamu’s hunger back more and more, he can’t get enough of it. When he kisses Shouyou, rolling them on their sides, kissing the post-orgasm love of his life’s forehead.

“That was incredible...think you can go again in a bit?” Osamu says, watching Shouyou’s eyes slide close. He nods though, patting Osamu’s chest.

“That was...so good,” Shouyou says weakly, and Osamu will give him a bit more than 5 minutes before seducing him into that second round. Perhaps they may just fall asleep, too. Osamu is fine with either, as his body thrums post-coital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo personally I felt I was making an awkward chapter split from here to the next part. My beta said it was alright though TT


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eeendd~~ Ah I felt really good about this TT The scenes with Hinata in Osamu's place/the kitchen made me think of Hinata's canon interactions at the toilets www
> 
> Loved introducing Kita~ I kept him very chill. I'm having plans for a tanakiyo yakuza au, as well as an ushikita tattoo/plant shop au (but kita's entire gang is inked too); so writing those characters here in the chapters made me feel so good jdbajskdbkjas like, sneak peaks to future fics
> 
> Thank you all for reading~~~ I love this ship SO much and I'm glad I knocked out this fic for them.

Panic gripes Shouyou for exactly 5 seconds. It raises his heart rate, makes his chest tight. He opens his eyes, wide with fear. He flinches as an exhale ghosts over his neck. Then his heart rate becomes normal, as Shouyou’s rib cage recognizes the warm weight draped over it; Osamu’s arm. He sighs out deeply, putting his own hand over Osamu’s. He’s safe. He’s at Osamu’s.

Easing into the body warmth behind him, Shouyou bites his lip. They’re completely naked. And Osamu was spent after that second round. Shouyou had been sleepy too, but he had heard the explicit sounds of Osamu removing and throwing away the condom. It had made Shouyou feel stiff and awkward; but that all faded when Osamu’s arms wrapped around his chest. They had ended up like this, as Shouyou and Osamu shared the same need to spoon and fall asleep. Shouyou wonders why he’s woken up though. It’s still the middle of the night. He doesn’t want to get up for fear of waking up Osamu. A rumbling in his stomach growls him to find some food however. Sex made him hungry.

It takes Shouyou ten minutes to remove Osamu’s arm, place it elsewhere, and get out from under the blanket. He crawls on all fours, as soreness spreads from his lower back. He bites down a small ‘Ou’, then stands when he’s at the half open door. Careful in the unknown darkness, Shouyou makes his way over to Osamu’s kitchen area. He opens the fridge, wondering if it is okay to take anything… 

Shouyou blinks. The entire top shelf of the small fridge is filled with onigiri. Biting his lip, Shouyou takes out two. Osamu’s onigiri are so good, and just seeing them kills any inhibition Shouyou had before. He eats one, then two. A chill goes over his spine, given he’s naked and away from Osamu’s body. Eyes adjusting to the dark, Shouyou can’t seem to find his bag anywhere. The events are hazy in his mind. Love and lust have overruled. Did they somehow kick it away?

Keeping the fridge door open, Shouyou uses it to locate his bag. He needs to brush his teeth in the morning, and his bag also has a shirt and fresh underwear. He needs both. The light helps a little, so Shouyou lets the door stay open as he walks towards Osamu’s couch. His bag lies innocently under the table.

Underwear on in a second, Shouyou pulls his t-shirt over his head, when a shadow in the door scares the living daylights out of him.

“Aaagh!” he yells, calves backing into the couch as he backs off. The light from the fridge shines on a sleepy Osamu, in all his naked glory. There’s no need to be shy or look away, and yet Shouyou can’t help but be one, and do the other.

“I uh...was hungry,” he says, staring at another corner where a very naked Osamu isn’t. Movement tells him Osamu is coming closer though, so Shouyou brings his head to turn that way. Osamu halts before him, the fridge light casting half his face in light, the other half in shadows. Sometimes, Shouyou has no idea what goes on behind that neutral face of Osamu’s.

Finger and thumb press into Shouyou’s chin, keeping him still. For a second he guesses that Osamu is going to kiss him, and he’s half true—Osamu licks the corner of Shouyou’s mouth, eating away a rice corn. Shouyou blushes, knowing the heat of his skin might alert Osamu. Osamu neither smiles or scolds him however, sitting down on the couch. Shouyou looks at him, all tattoos on display, the piercings glinting in the dim dark, Osamu’s bored expression drifting over to his arms stretching over the couch. Shouyou blushes harder looking at Osamu’s spread leg, his limp dick in between.

“S-should I close the fridge door? Do you want one of your onigiri as well?” Shouyou says, bringing a light laugh at the end of the question. Osamu is silent for a moment, then speaks.

“Probably. And yeah, I’d like one.”

Shouyou nods, going over to get him one. Or two. Osamu likes to eat. Shouyou doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. They had sex after all. They were boyfriends. It was just the first time Shouyou stayed at...at someone’s house like this. Not just a sleepover with his friends, or hanging out at Kenma’s to watch him play games. This was so different, so much more...adult-like. And Osamu seems to be a pro in it. Of course, he’d feel at home in his own house. 

Shouyou should invite him over next time. For when he...for when they—

His thoughts drift as he brings Osamu the onigiri, Shouyou then watches as Osamu lurches forward, grabbing the plate and putting it on the table. Then his arms go around Shouyou’s back, pulling close. The attack takes Shouyou by surprise, whose knees give out by the pull. The next moment, Osamu pulls him into his lap, hands going below the fabric Shouyou just put on. But his hands aren’t undressing Shouyou, nor are they doing anything obscene. Osamu rubs his thumbs over Shouyou’s sore lower back.

Osamu puts his chin on Shouyou’s torso, looking up.

“Are you in pain?” 

Shaking his head, Shouyou wonders what gave it away. Did he walk funny? Surely not…

A bit more relaxed with Osamu just hugging him, Shouyou sits down completely, glad he’s dressed. This was still so new to him… But Osamu’s pretty eyes show warmth, and nothing could make him un-pretty in Shouyou’s eyes. So Shouyou doesn’t avert his eyes again. Instead, he looks on as Osamu presses his forehead into Shouyou’s chest, rubbing it in.

“Are you happy, Shouyou..?”

Crooking his eyebrow, Shouyou’s hands go into the coloured parts of Osamu’s hair. “Yeah I am. What would make you think otherwise?”

“Mhn, just some idiotic doubt, I guess,” Osamu says, his voice sleepy. Shouyou hugs his head close. “I thought I’d felt you struggle in my arms earlier. You’ll stay for breakfast, right?”

Shouyou gawks. “I wasn’t planning on going back in the middle of the night!” He says, a little too loud. “And I was just a little disoriented when I woke up hungry...That was all! Your arm was very heavy, but I tried my best to not wake you up.” Shouyou glances at the fridge, not knowing what else to say apart from “I was just...famished after...after what we did.”

Osamu’s head shoots up. He smiles after a moment passes. Shouyou has no clue what he’s thinking, or what made him ask something so obvious. Maybe...Maybe Osamu really was as nervous as Shouyou, sometimes. He was shivering when he hovered over Shouyou, when they lay down on the futon. He was so careful, making sure Shouyou wasn’t in pain. He soothed him, and even if the stretch was weird, pleasure was too powerful for Shouyou to actually feel pain.

Shouyou bends backwards, reaching for the plate with onigiri. His lower back might be sore, but Osamu’s big hands steady him, thumbs pressing down to ease any kind of soreness.

“Eat something. It helped me too,” Shouyou says, like he hadn’t been jumpscared earlier, or averted his gaze. Osamu nods and eats. Shouyou notices just the slightest hardening under his ass. Was it their position? Or something else he did? Shouyou doesn’t know, and Osamu shows no other sign of wanting to continue their earlier steamy moments. 

Shouyou’s eyes are trained on any rice corn ending up besides the mouth. He’s too slow for payback, as Osamu licks it away himself. 

“Wanna go back and cuddle?” Osamu asks, and Shouyou notices that Osamu’s dick isn’t semi-hard anymore. It’s limp again. Shouyou wonders what it had been then. He nods before Osamu has to ask again, and gets lifted into the strong arms as Osamu stands. Shouyou’s arms and then legs loop around to secure himself. For once, Shouyou manages not to make an awkward surprised sound. Osamu has one arm draped over his lower back as he walks to his bedroom. Gentle lips press into Shouyou’s clothed shoulder.

Lying back down, they slot together like puzzle pieces. Osamu kisses his neck, chaste and with not much intention of more. Shouyou relaxes into his chest, loving the way Osamu holds him tight.

“Shouyou, you’re very flexible huh? The positions tonight were mostly vanilla...we should try other stuff next time,” Osamu says, his voice even sleepier than before. He rubs his forehead into Shouyou’s hair this time, and Shouyou listens to him fall asleep. He doesn’t answer the question, guessing that bending backwards to get the onigiri was something that turned Osamu on. He did that. He was able to make Osamu feel like this; feel nervous, feel horny. Shouyou’s arms cross over Osamu’s, eyes closing. Smiling to himself. _Feeling loved_

They wake up like this: fabrics rustling as they move, arms tightening, legs widening. With his eyes closed, Shouyou’s lips open when he feels Osamu’s penis gently press against his entrance. He pushes his knees up, letting the upper leg be taken by Osamu’s hand, who holds it up. Osamu’s lips kiss the nape of his neck, eager to create another mark. He has a condom on when he enters, and the lube hadn’t been far off to prep each other. It’s so easy, Shouyou thinks. To just lie here and have sex with Osamu.

Osamu has fresh minty breath. Shouyou wonders if perhaps he’d woken earlier and brushed his teeth. Exactly what Shouyou had planned on doing… The fresh breath ghosts over his now warm-flushing cheeks.

“You know...I really wanted to have you as a midnight snack...but your lower back hurts a little, yeah?” Osamu asks, his penis sliding in and out slowly and precise. Shouyou breathes out. There was nothing to hide. With his head on top of Osamu’s biceps, he nods. No need to be vocal so early… 

“Knew it...babe, tell me okay?” Osamu says, his hips rushing forward. Shouyou’s reply comes in a moan, a ‘yes’ to Osamu’s request, a yes to the thick girthy penis entering him and bringing him pleasure. Shouyou takes Osamu’s arm, makes it cover his chest. Osamu holds onto Shouyou’s shoulder, their bodies glued together as only the necessary body parts move. Osamu hisses when lust overrules him, and he bites Shouyou’s earlobe.

“I will,” Shouyou says, the last conversational reply he manages to say before his head turns into Osamu’s arm, and an orgasm works its ways through his body. Osamu is never rough with him, apart from the teeth nibbling and sometimes biting. He lets go of Shouyou’s leg, letting it hover or fall however Shouyou wants it to. When Osamu comes, he whispers Shouyou’s name over and over into the nape of his neck. With one addition—

“My Shouyou,” Osamu says, his hips becoming still, his condom covered penis slowly sliding out and lying limp on Shouyou’s thigh. He breathes out again, “Shouyou,” then snuggles close. Shouyou smiles, as their arms criss-cross over one another. The blanket has fallen low on their hips and thighs, crinkled beyond help. It’s too early to get up yet, so Shouyou falls back asleep.

*

*

Spring nears its end. The cherry trees have bloomed and blossomed, littering the streets in pink. Even in what is commonly known as the ‘lesser good’ neighbourhood, the pink reaches, a stark contrast to the empty stores, boarded up places, or 3-storied apartment buildings that need a new paint job.

The smell of tea overflows within one tattoo parlour, as chit-chat between Atsumu and Shouyou somehow comes to volleyball. Osamu has no trouble believing that Shouyou played in high school. That would explain the strong leg muscles and the ability to jump over Osamu’s head. Not that Shouyou has done that, but Osamu likes the thought that his boyfriend could.

He isn’t sure how much he appreciates Atsumu befriending Shouyou like it’s nothing. At least, Osamu can take pride in the fact that even his shitty twin can get along with him. And that Atsumu doesn’t give Shouyou as much crap as Osamu has received from half the town. Sure, people in the market are nice to him when he walks there with Shouyou, holding hands. He still gets looked at a lot, but now people recognize him as the kid who opened up a tattoo place, who takes care of his business, and who is good enough to be with their town’s sunshine child.

“Ouch,” he says, a thought there, noted, then put away. Kita doesn’t even reply, the drill-like sound of the needle speaking for him. Outside, the sun starts to set. Kita has been bowing over him for the last 90 minutes without taking a break. He presses his gloved hand into Osamu’s shoulder to keep him from moving. Osamu watches as Shouyou and Atsumu chat on, Shouyou now used to Osamu’s little outbursts of pain, and thankfully not as worried or staring as he had been before.

Not that Osamu minded that much that Shouyou was worried for him. It was beyond adorable; how that orange head would turn lightning quick, worry in those sweet brown eyes. But then Atsumu would turn Shouyou’s shoulder and assure him “He’s fiiine! Just a baby!”

The light outside catches a window, making the beam of sun rays enter Osamu’s shop. It illuminates a piercing in Shouyou’s earlobe, which Suna had put in there a day before. Half the gang had showed up a week ago, following Kita visiting the twins. Aran had been here for a match against Atsumu, and the two of them had joked and teased so much that Osamu almost missed not playing anymore.

The ink flows under his skin, prying Osamu’s thoughts away from the past into the present. He closes his eyes, letting his mind become white noise—the noise being the consistent drone of the inking needle. 

Atsumu laughs out loud suddenly, quickly taking a sip from his tea. Osamu had asked Shouyou to brew the Lovely Lemon blend, for Kita to taste. Kita loved it of course, and demanded packages be sent to him as part of his payment. He wouldn’t take money from Osamu, who was more than willing to pay his senpai for the elaborate artwork.

“Right!? He thinks he’s so freaking cool...but no one can control their face when they’re asleep,” Atsumu says, his eyes looking over to Osamu who stares back wordlessly. He then glances at Shouyou, who tries to stop his shaking shoulders. This was exactly why they shouldn’t be good friends. Osamu can only foresee trouble and teasing. But it’s fine, he guesses, using a pause in Kita’s work to turn his face to the other side.

The shoulder pain he’d get will be so worth it. When Osamu had moved here, he’d showed Atsumu one of his new tattoo designs, one meant for himself. He’d had the crow on his hip done at random, needing to voice his feelings for Shouyou in this way. But the evil smiling, golden-eyed fox on his shoulder blade, with knives hiding behind colourful petals...only Kita’s art would do. Osamu had waited for his senpai to head this way, and was so glad to welcome him this soon. Kita was an artist specialized in watercolour-looking tattoos, and that was exactly what Osamu had envisioned his fox and swirling petals to look like. 

Kita was okay with doing the line art and colouring in sessions close together. After all, Osamu had to bear the pain of it. Kita’s other jobs were done in Osamu’s parlour too, who doesn’t mind that some Instagram followers of his love Kita’s work and want to get stuff done by him. Osamu has seen Shouyou look at Kita’s page too. He didn’t mind that either, as long as Shouyou would allow Osamu to do his first ink. Crows flying from the collar bone, up and under it, towards the left shoulder. Shouyou wasn’t ready for it yet, so Osamu would wait.

The session goes into the late evening. Atsumu and Shouyou dip out to get food, and Kita needs a break too. They eat on the couch and the few chairs Osamu has. Atsumu talks to Kita, about his upcoming match with Aran. Shouyou sits close to Osamu, not blushing for once; Osamu’s torso is bare, as they would continue inking in a moment. Shouyou looks though. He just can’t stop. Osamu likes it.

Kita as well as Suna have both been nice to Shouyou, and Kita was a tea-drinker like the twins. He has gone to the Birds of a Feather tea shop, making some of Sugawara’s admirers leave when he enters. Osamu laughs at the memory, given that though he himself is inked, Kita has tattoos going up to his jawline, and his arms are completely covered. Even so, Shouyou never stares at Kita. He asked about the tattoos on Kita’s throat. But it’s all friendly.

Shouyou later falls asleep on the couch. Atsumu has to leave, saying they’ll meet up early for pancakes at Osamu’s house. Kita says goodbye to the leaving twin, continuing on with the final colours.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d fall for someone like that,” Kita says in the deep of the night, when everything except the inking machine has gone quiet. Osamu would shrug his shoulder in different circumstances. He looks down at his feet. Shouyou was special. Had been special from day one. He took Osamu in like a hurricane, but never let him crash back to earth. It was an all-time high, being together. When Osamu doesn’t answer, Kita wipes ink clean from his skin, then says, “You fit nicely together though.”

“Yeah,” he says, agreeing with a smile. “I think so too.”

*

*

Shouyou wakes up in now-familiar surroundings. The smell of pancakes penetrates Osamu’s bedroom, and he gets up. He must have fallen asleep yesterday. And Osamu, his strong Osamu, brought him home. Shouyou smiles stupidly to himself as he gets dressed. He hears the TV in the living room, so he carefully peeks out. Osamu is in the kitchen, flipping the pancakes. Shouyou takes a deep breath. This is his new normal now. 

When he goes out, he finds Atsumu and Kita sitting on the couch.

The couch on which Osamu kisses him madly all the time.

On which several handjobs and other foreplay activities have been conducted. 

Kita stares up at Shouyou, who turns bright red and runs back into the bedroom. He will just wait until breakfast is served!

“Is Shouyou up?” he hears Osamu ask, and Kita hums something Shouyou can’t hear.

This is ridiculous, Shouyou thinks. _I am ridiculous_. Shaking his head, he walks up to the door and tries again. Walking right past the couch, Shouyou says “Good morning!” loudly to overcome his shyness. Kita and Atsumu greet him back, not being weird about anything. 

Walking up to Osamu, Shouyou concentrates on that strong wide back. He hugs Osamu from behind, who greets him. For his bravery, Shouyou receives the first bite of a pancake, marvelling at how delicious Osamu’s cooking is. Then he remembers the tattoo, and worms his way under Osamu’s arm to hug him sideways. Osamu smiles down. He has circles on his eyes, probably because last night's tattoo session took long. Might have taken a toll on him. Shouyou accepts a kiss to his forehead, wishing he was tall enough to kiss Osamu right back.

“How is your shoulder?” he asks instead.

“In great pain,” Osamu grins, eyes drawn back to a pancake in need of flipping. He does it with a flick of his wrist. A true expert. Shouyou’s heart is so full and warm, that he glances back quickly before pulling at Osamu’s shirt. Osamu hums a question, then brings his ear down to Shouyou’s mouth when he understands.

“After breakfast...well not right away but...today..!” Shouyou says, trying to find his courage. “I want to...do something to help.”

“Help...where?” Osamu asks, his tone and crooked eyebrow indicating he doesn’t get it. But that could just be a trick. Sometimes, Osamu knows exactly what Shouyou is trying to hint at. And then he just acts like he doesn't get Shouyou to say things clearly and out loud. Not able to tell the difference this time, Shouyou bounces nervously on the balls of his feet, then cranes his neck up to whisper and explain. When the words drift from his mouth into Osamu’s ear, Shouyou notices with joy that Osamu’s ear turns bright red. He looks at him then, eyes wide. 

“Really?”

Shouyou nods his head. Really.

After breakfast, they all head out. Before Shouyou makes good on the promise he gave earlier, they have a volleyball match to watch. He meets Aran, introduces him to Sugawara. Even Kenma came to watch the match. Afterwards, like any other second Sunday, Shouyou goes with Osamu to the market. They browse a bit, buy fresh goods for Osamu’s place. Shouyou could almost forget the nervous feeling in his stomach.

It rises like a beast when they return to Osamu’s. Osamu hasn’t made a comment on Shouyou’s offer. He actually acts like no offer was made. 

That is, until they’re inside his house, all alone. Groceries are put away, and a new salt-shaker Shouyou bought for Osamu stands on the counter top. In truth, Osamu doesn’t use a lot of salt in his cooking, but Shouyou likes it. Proud that he has gotten a nice gift that he can use himself, Shouyou’s guard is completely gone.

Osamu hugs Shouyou from behind, bites his ear.

“So, about that help…” he murmurs, voice deep. Shouyou doesn’t stop smiling at himself. He turns around, lining up their palms the best he can, linking their fingers together. Osamu’s smile becomes soft; they don’t always hold hands like this, given that it was a callback to their first time together on Osamu’s futon. It was special. And well, it gives Shouyou confidence, too. When he held Osamu’s hands like that, he was riding him on top. Letting go of fear and holding nothing back, to give Osamu everything he had. 

With that same mindset, Shouyou pushes. He walks Osamu backwards to his couch. That same lovely couch. Osamu’s eyes never once leave Shouyou’s. He doesn’t hesitate putting one foot backwards, trusting Shouyou completely. Somehow that blows away how terrified Shouyou feels deep down. He’s never given anyone something like this.

At the couch, Osamu sits down heavily, his knees already spread. Shouyou holds onto those hands as he kneels down between, feeling the press of Osamu’s fingertips pressing down onto the back of his hands. Steadying breaths help Shouyou to calm down the last of his nervousness. He doesn’t want to let go of those hands…

And so he doesn’t. Like he’s seen in one erotic movie, he uses his teeth to push open Osamu’s zipper. But then there’s still a button waiting. Shouyou glares at it. Above him, Osamu releases a huff, then let’s go of one hand to help Shouyou out. That same hand then ruffles through Shouyou’s long hair. It’s been cut once, but Shouyou kept it fluffy and a bit longer for Osamu’s joy.

“I don’t mind you going hands-free but...I’d suggest we first remove the clothing, yes?” Osamu offers, his fingers so gentle over Shouyou’s scalp. Sighing, Shouyou removes the pants and underwear with both his hands, pushing it all the way down to Osamu’s ankles. Osamu shimmies out of them, kicks them aside. He looks incredibly happy already, but Shouyou’s focus goes on what’s right in front of him. He takes his free hand to hold the base of Osamu’s semi-hardness. He strokes it a few times, and then with all the courage in the world beating hard against his chest, Shouyou dives forward, lips first. He kisses the side of the penis not obstructed by his own fingers. His eyes are open, but Shouyou doesn’t yet look up.

All the magazines have written about eye contact during this special love-making. Shouyou would do it right… And then he gets lost into the feel of Osamu’s throbbing penis against his mouth. Shouyou opens it, lets his tongue lick from the bottom to mid-top. Osamu sinks deeper into the couch, releasing a deep moan.

“Fuck that feels good Shouyou…” And Shouyou’s knees come closer to the couch, widen a little. He has his other hand curled to a fist on top of Osamu’s thigh. Gathering more confidence, he flattens his hand, then reaches up to hold Osamu’s hip and soothe it. If Osamu wants to move, he doesn’t show it; his lower body is perfectly still. Shouyou looks at the crow tattoo, his heart swelling. His eyes stay on it, then slowly the lids close as he brings his mouth over Osamu’s glans. There’s precum already, but Shouyou makes it really wet with his tongue. Breathing out, he moans a little when he lets the flat tongue roll over and round the top. His hand tightens around Osamu’s penis, not moving too much just yet.

He then looks up to Osamu’s face, only to watch the eyes roll backwards. His mouth slightly opens, the smallest of sounds coming from him. Grinning, Shouyou’s mouth widens as he pushes his lips and head downwards. He keeps on watching, blessed when Osamu’s eyes turn on him. They’re that dull fire that could lash out any moment. Osamu’s fingers curl around the orange strands, a little rough without truly hurting Shouyou.

“And we didn’t do this before because..?” Osamu wonders out loud, not actually upset. Shouyou shrugs his shoulder once. Then he flattens both hands on Osamu’s thighs. He closes his eyes to fully enjoy the feel of Osamu’s heft running over his tongue. Hands-free...he wouldn’t have thought of doing it before, but it feels so good. And with Osamu, everything is easy. He wants to try out so many things, and Shouyou can only be swept away with it. Try to match him, to come up with different stuff too. He has been training...reading and trying out sucking a banana. The results weren’t amazing, and it made Shouyou realize that he should just try it with his boyfriend. The painful shoulder tattoo had been a perfect opportunity. Shouyou wanted to help, to make Osamu feel good and be distracted from the pain. Wanting to do so much...well Shouyou doesn’t know either why he hadn’t tried it before.

It felt right today. And he felt all right to try it. Osamu doesn’t have other complaints, his breath becoming faster and faster. Shouyou matches that with his head movements, fully concentrating on not gagging. But maybe Osamu likes to hear that..?

“Shouyou, that’s so perfect…”

Shouyou wants to ask ‘what’ exactly, but with his mouth full he can only hum questioningly “Mhnn?” 

A full body shudder goes through Osamu. Shouyou feels it when his tongue licks over the thick vein, too. Osamu pulsates all over. Deciding to shut thinking down and just _do_ , Shouyou continues until Osamu warns him. 

“Little crow...I’m gonna come,” Osamu says, his hand gently under Shouyou’s widened jaw. He pushes a little. But Shouyou’s lips are firm, and he shakes his head the smallest bit. Osamu becomes still under him, his stomach rising and falling alone. He watches as Shouyou closes his eyes, who concentrates on not being afraid. He pumps the lower half of Osamu’s penis, sucking in the upper half and readying himself. Osamu’s seed spurts out twice, then runs down his throat in a heavy load. Shouyou’s brows furrow at the taste, at the strange feel of it. But he swallows, under Osamu’s continued gentle ministrations to his face.

He lets Osamu’s penis roll off his tongue and out of his mouth. Breathing in deeply, Shouyou looks up—in time to watch Osamu’s head dive for his, to kiss him. Shouyou’s hands rush to Osamu’s shoulders, but there’s no pushing him away. Osamu hums a deep appreciation down Shouyou’s filthy throat, not minding tasting himself there in the least. He kisses Shouyou’s lower lip, eyes staring down at one another in a haze.

“You know what this means right...you’ll have to let me taste you too.”

“I...I didn’t do it so that you would have to—” Shouyou protest softly. Osamu silences him with a thumb running over Shouyou’s plump lips.

“No, not that. Not right away. I want to rim you, Shouyou. You know what that is right? You pushed me away once, so I didn’t try again...but I really wanna kiss you as intimately as I can...Please let me? You’ll feel good, I promise. We can shower together first, if you have any concerns.”

Shouyou becomes bright red. Osamu’s hands are under his jaw, and that deep voice could ask him anything, making him do and want anything. Shouyou nods, his own hands covering Osamu’s.

“When I read about...giving head. I also found a site explaining how to...uh...clean up o-oneself a-and,” Shouyou wants to explain, but Osamu kisses him once more. Distracted, Shouyou gets pulled up into Osamu’s lap. But Osamu’s hands place him then to his side, next to him on the couch. He parts from the kiss very slowly, putting his forehead against Shouyou’s. 

“Doing research by yourself...it’s so cute. But please include me, too? We want to explore things together, I thought.”

Shouyou smiles, kissing Osamu’s nose. “I wanted to surprise you!”

Osamu smiles sweetly, hugging him close. “Well, count me surprised, happy, and all the more in love with you, Shouyou.” Cuddling a little, Shouyou becomes butter in Osamu’s hands. He’s not once embarrassed that Osamu’s lower half isn’t covered one bit. They stay for a moment like this, before Shouyou looks up to him.

“I didn’t go and watch any eh...pornographic stuff by myself. What I read in magazines and on sites, there were images but...nothing spectacularly erotic.” Pouting, Shouyou hopes Osamu doesn’t think he’d just do sneaky stuff like that. Osamu smiles into Shouyou’s hair, then kisses his forehead once more. 

“That’s fine then,” Osamu says, pressing a small kiss against Shouyou’s earlobe carrying the silver piercing. They sink into the couch together, and after a while, Shouyou’s fingers tickle over Osamu’s thighs. He hadn’t made a move to dress himself after all. And the penis just lying there was awfully tempting. Shouyou grins to himself, more so when Osamu grabs his hand and puts it firmly on his penis. He kisses the top of Shouyou’s ear, then bites it. His fingers run down Shouyou’s back, below his pants. “You’re so hungry huh?”

Shouyou laughs and nods, then sinks down to take Osamu back into his mouth, while he’s getting fingered and prepped for more. It wasn’t completely what Shouyou had in mind for today. He wanted Osamu to rest after all...but Osamu was just sitting on the couch, getting himself a treat. When his penis was fully hard again, Shouyou’s mouth released it with a pop. He locates condoms under the table, then hands one to Osamu to put on.

He undresses himself, clothes falling beside Osamu’s. Osamu has a grin that never fades. With the condom on, he pumps his cock while he waits for Shouyou. Then his arms widen to welcome Shouyou when he turns around to sit on Osamu’s lap. Shouyou has his feet on the outside of Osamu’s, and sinks his hips backwards while Osamu helps him. Lying back to chest was so tempting, but Shouyou keeps his spine straight when he sinks down onto Osamu’s penis. Osamu’s hands grab his hips from behind, guiding him. When they find a rhythm, Shouyou lets himself fall backwards, to rest on top of Osamu’s chest. Osamu’s hips do most of the work, while Shouyou just languidly sinks himself down into that lovely heat.

Osamu’s hands roam over Shouyou’s chest, to play with his nipples. It’s all Shouyou needs to let his jaw go slack again, to moan out Osamu’s name over and over. They don’t even wait for the orgasm; Osamu’s patience runs low when he grabs Shouyou, turns him around and stands up. They make their way into the bathroom. There, Shouyou gets back to his feet, and he wobbles over into the shower. His entire skin is ablaze. He looks behind himself, as Osamu tosses the condom into the bin. He keeps watching as Osamu stands behind him, spreading his ass. They use the shower head to thoroughly clean Shouyou, who keeps his stance wide. The warm water is so nice on his lower back, and Osamu’s teeth sink into his shoulder.

“You’re cool with it, yeah?” Osamu asks him, and Shouyou nods. He keeps his hands on the tiles, as Osamu sinks to his knees. The shower head washes warm water over Shouyou’s hips and penis, over his thighs. Then he cuts the water off, wanting to fully enjoy what Osamu would be doing. It was a little scary still. Osamu spreads his cheeks wide, then runs his tongue over Shouyou’s asshole. It’s exciting and terrifying at once. But Osamu doesn’t rush it; he plays around, making longing sounds as he puts his face between Shouyou’s ass cheeks and kisses him deeply. His tongue dives inside, licking him inside and out. Shouyou looks to the ceiling, his eyes rolling with pleasure, and then he moans out and doesn’t stop once.

*

*

Birds of a Feather expanded. They now have a small cafe section, with three new helpers. Tsukishima the barista is looking at his phone, while Yamaguchi the server peers over it. Yachi the hostess waits eagerly for customers; she greets Osamu with a deep bow and apology, with no one knowing what she’s apologizing for. Tsukishima greets Osamu with a minor nod, then continues to scroll his thumb over his phone. Shouyou pushes Osamu to take a seat and have lunch with him.

“We could go to my place,” Osamu protests, not really fighting the hands in his back too much. Shouyou could get vicious after all. 

“You mean the back of your tattoo shop and the couch? I know your tricks, Miya Osamu. I will not fall for them!” Shouyou bites back, retrieving his packed lunch from the cafe’s counter. The shop had a slow moment, and Shouyou was on his break. He unpacks his lunch, revealing the healthiest stuff Osamu has ever seen. There’s even a tasty protein brownie waiting for him. Osamu’s tattooed hand reaches for it first, but Shouyou takes his hand and gives him chopstick first.

“The rice looks good too,” Osamu says in apology. “Let’s dig in.”

They eat in silence, in which silence is pleasurable humming. Osamu gets kicked in the shin twice for it; his hums tend to be a bit sexual when he wants to tease Shouyou. And he makes it known what he wants, when he peers down at him. So maybe he’s gotten addicted to their lunch hangouts at his place. Food and sex, what better combo could there be? And Shouyou met Osamu’s libido all the time, even having the better stamina out of the two.

Osamu was fine with not having sex. Hell, if Shouyou wouldn’t do anything but cuddle him for a week, that would be fine. But he loves to tease his boyfriend.

They finish lunch with no more kicks, as Osamu goes into the offensive and runs his foot up Shouyou’s shin for once. Shouyou slams his hands down, and says “It’s time!” in such an important tone that Osamu dials back his flirting and concentrates on what Shouyou has to say. He crosses his arms over the table, shoulders and head forward. He knew it wouldn’t be anything erotic, so he keeps his face serious and invites Shouyou to let him know—

“Time for what?”

Hands on the table, Shouyou breathes in deeply. “I am ready, Osamu. For my first tattoo.”

Blinking in surprise is Osamu’s first reaction. His head sinks down a little, and he shakes his head. His hair is all black now, and Shouyou’s has been cut shorter. 

“Ohh, how I waited for this day. Got any ideas for me to work with?” Osamu asks, and watches as Shouyou bows to the side to retrieve a clear file with images. They clear the table to see what Shouyou’s thoughts are on paper. They’re wild. He speaks a different language sometimes. Osamu has tried to explain that you couldn’t ‘guwaah!’ line-art. But his eyes roam over the different styles, of the same image; a crow taking flight amidst roses, thorns, and playful foxes. It’s a big tattoo, and Shouyou says he wants full colour too. 

“It will take some time. We go for it step by step. Crow first, then the surrounding stuff. I’d advise something smaller but...if this is what you want,” Osamu says, collecting the artwork and placing it back into the clearfile. Shouyou takes his hand, puts it knuckles down. Something in Osamu becomes so still...he looks at Shouyou, whose own hand lies now within Osamu’s grasp. Shouyou’s exposed wrist is so shiny and clean, begging for a kiss. Instead, Shouyou points his fingers just below where his veins are.

“A grey fox, right here. You have the crow after all…”

Osamu smiles, letting his thumb go inside over the palm. “That’s perfect, Shouyou.”

*

*

It’s the middle of summer and Shouyou has to cover up. Long sleeves for his fox tattoo, while his entire back hurts. The piece Osamu inked into him is on his upper back. But afterwards, Osamu and he had a session of lovemaking that nearly rivaled the time it took to ink in the final colours. Shouyou’s lower back was hurting too, and he was moving around in the shop gingerly. In front of the shop too, as he has to sweep the sidewalk in the sun. He can still see the clock inside, watching it. Any minute now.

The door opens with a tinkle. Shouyou turns around too fast, then puts his hand on his painful back. “Owie…”

Osamu comes forward in quick strides, kissing Shouyou’s crown. “Dawww, you look like an old man. How sweet.”

“Do you want me to beat you up?” Shouyou asks without acid in his voice, holding up the broom. Osamu takes it aside. He holds Shouyou’s face when he kisses him.

“Too late to get your baseball bat now, little crow. Got you trapped here. God you smell like tea today, worse than normal,” Osamu says, kissing Shouyou’s face. His hands smooth under Shouyou’s apron, rubbing his lower back. Those hot lips trail Shouyou’s ear, where two new piercings sit. “Are you alright, Shouyou? Need a massage?”

“Maybe later,” Shouyou says, hugging Osamu back. He hears the faint murmur of ‘I do mean a real massage and not just a rimjob this time…’ It makes him smile and hug Osamu tighter. Osamu kisses him everywhere he can reach, not caring who walks by and watches. Shouyou doesn’t care either. Even if his back is in pain, Osamu is here to make him feel better. 

The hands are still on his back, circling through the thin jumper. Osamu had him buy a sport’s top which would be breathable and soak in the sweat during the hot summer days. Now Osamu looked at him as if he couldn’t wait to get it off him, after all.

“You got the goods?” he whispers down Shouyou’s lips, who doesn't blush that hard anymore. Nodding, he retrieves a thin package of their newest tea blend. It was a prototype, not yet ready to be put in store yet. Kenma figured no one would try it. No one but a foodie who loves to try crazy things. Shouyou has to warn Osamu though.

“Suga-san added chilli so… please be careful.” Warily, Shouyou watches as Osamu takes the new tea blend and puts it in his pocket. Then those warm hands go under his jaw, one of so many puzzle-slots where they fit just perfectly. His kiss is sweet and undemanding. His dark, natural hair tickles Shouyou’s forehead.

“Say thanks to Sugawara for me. And if you need anything at all, you know where to find me,” Osamu says, and Shouyou laughs, his own hands on the tattooed wrist.

“You say that as if we don’t hang out every day already!”

Osamu smiles sweetly down, nuzzling their noses. “True...which is why—” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he holds up two keys. They’re so shiny and chrome...Shouyou blinks at them. He knows exactly what Osamu’s keys look like. Almost like this, just not as new-looking. He takes the keys in his hand, while Osamu shuffles closer. Once more his hand goes to Shouyou’s lower back. Then slowly up to Shouyou’s second tattoo.

“I know it’s on the bad side of town but...come live with me, Shouyou.”

Eyelashes flutter, while a warmth so unlike the sun’s fills Shouyou from the inside. His hand, under which a grey fox is sitting pretty and hiding under the long sleeve, reaches up to Osamu’s neck. He pulls the loveliest boy he’s ever met down into a searing kiss. And that was Shouyou’s answer, as his fingers curl around his new keys. Osamu sinks into the kiss, swaying them a little.

“God...kiss me like that again and you don’t need a baseball bat to knock me out, my little crow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I will have you know that my bullet points/ideas at the end of this fic were just [bj] and the ending where osamu waits for shouyou but nothing major happens.
> 
> istg I have no clue what happened. I just. snapped. But I had soooo much fun and felt the writing went super smooth TT So I am insanely proud of the fic in general. 
> 
> Also I'm super proud of that ending sentence jsabdjbasdjk I haven't been proud like this on a final line for some time.


End file.
